Nature
I gently glide through the flowered fields of life,
My fingers tap the ends of the petals,
Habitually hitting like typewriting excercises,
Smooth but Jagged.
The wind blows mightily for a second,
As if warning me of trials forthcoming,
Pieces of pollen dance joyfully in the air,
And then sink to redemption.
The ground whispers as i pass,
Taking deep breaths,
As i climb the lowest mountain,
And cross the shallow vallies,
Into Nature.
Copyright © Joshua Butler | Year Posted 2005
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