PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

The walk to the Overlook is two miles.

I always take the Oak Trail.

I hold my journal close,

remembering someone's words,

"Hold the things dearest to you

close to your heart."



Butterweeds, primrose willow,

tread-softlies and moonflowers,

scampering squirrels, monarchs,

swallowtails and sulphurs.



'Gators peek from swampy waters.

My mother’s instructions,

"Ignore them. They only attack

when they feel threatened."

"Not unlike humans...", I think.



Reaching the Overlook, I stand silent.

The waters mirror graceful moore-hens,

ducks and iridescent grackles.

Sawgrass Lake, centuries old,

growing smaller with each decade.



The trees are slowly disappearing.

My mothers voice again, "The ax forgets,

but the tree remembers."

In retort, I think,

"Like a tree planted by the water,

I shall not be moved."

God is in this place.



And so I begin the journey back -

two miles of nature.

Do raccoons smile? Do squirrels say goodbye?

Do birds cry?

The carillon from the Presbyterian Church

is pealing, "This is my Father’s world."

Listening, I find the trail home.

Two miles of heaven

to last me until tomorrow.

~