by Leonard M Hawkes
I have not forgotten that first
Time alone with big trees:
Somewhat sequestered by canyon walls,
The California sun, as though in respect,
Bowing low, and no one else there
To share or distract my reverie.
And though a somewhat tattered ruin,
You stood as witness: a grove
Planted by the hand of God,
Ancient living prayers reaching heavenward.
And I longed; I listened spiritually,
As though to some grand and mystical music;
Knowing I had to hear with the heart, to remember--
Physical ears insufficient for this message--
To join with you in the transcendental.
And I heard your song, and your wide net
Of roots drew me in, and though
Very small, and yes, very, very young,
I stand now with your strength--
Assured in that truth of Eternity.
Author's Note: A California memory.
Posted on 01/17/2020
Copyright © 2020 Leonard M Hawkes
|Member Comments on this Poem|
|Posted by Brian Francis on 01/21/20 at 02:13 PM|
Oh my what a wonderful poem. Gaea, be praised. Thank you for putting this one out there. It revived very similar memories for me.
|Posted by Rob Littler on 02/01/20 at 11:46 AM|
a crystalline skull skulking echo eschewing all rarification via ratification by 2/3rds ro-sham-beau