Wish You Were Here
by Tony Whitaker
In awe I gaze from this mountain top,
Where all there is to see are hills of whispering trees
From the whistling sound of a mountain breeze
Hearing nature as she divinely breathes.
There is no noise of honking horns
There is no noise which pricks like thorns
This world into which most now are born
And the price of money which makes men mourn.
I worship these walks on these forest trails
Protected by a people who appreciate,
And find perfect, even that, which is inchoate,
Not even the teens would think to desecrate.
This Europe was a surprise, all which now I see
A world of reverence for something as simple as a tree
And you are safe in the city, even in the dead of night
Like window shopping, with a loved one, by the dim city lights.
I miss those left behind, who filled my life.
I wish you were here and all would be right.
But I took a new role upon this old stage, for
A walk on part in the war, rather than
A lead role in a cage.
Author's Note: This was inspired by my frustration of missing my two beautifu kids (Tony, Jr at 26 and Katrina at 28). I dedicate this one to the two I miss the most.
The last line is an excerpt from a song I LOVE to play on the guitar, especially the solo part. It's got a heart full of soul.
Posted on 10/09/2008
Copyright © 2021 Tony Whitaker
|Member Comments on this Poem|
|Posted by Charlie Morgan on 10/09/08 at 02:07 PM|
...well, well, well, stands tall, this one...so many lil' notices of a thou-ness to the opposite-oceaners [if you will] and so many latter day [1880-early 1900s] philosophers are/were from Austria, Germany, England and the ilk of an Europrean-Enlightened-Elite began is amoeba-ish persuasion of those philosophys to drift across over here, one i really think was Martin Buber[early 1878-1965] who allowed toward an existential-istic movement essentially seeking God by his/our relationship to EVERYTHING in the world, the relationship to everything [in order to experience God] was to have an I Thou relationship, not an I it or I yada yada, but let the other object be its own self[if you will] and your pome is rife with that kind of allusory. good 'un
|Posted by Kristina Woodhill on 10/09/08 at 03:09 PM|
I really appreciate you sharing this experience with us - nice to read about places where beauty, peace and respect are still common place.
|Posted by Alison McKenzie on 10/09/08 at 08:46 PM|
Ahhhhhh, Mr. Floyd. By the way, which one's Pink? What an awesome journey you're taking, Tony! Thanks for sharing so much of it with us!!! I appreciate your experiences!!