Poetry

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I want to capture this place,
But how do you package the wind?
How do you gather the birdcalls
To play them over again?

You’d have to remember these piney woods
Cool shadows and shades of green
Fine-filtered, fragrant breezes
Rustling, gentle, serene

You’d have to remember the quiet
Perhaps a low, mower’s hum
The subtle dream of cares put on hold
Transferred to a higher One

You couldn’t forget the water
The strong scent and gentle roll
The wind in your hair, the sun on your feet
As you’re carried from shore to shore

If I could capture this place
And take it all home in a box
I’d sit on the stoop at my back door
Open it up, and watch!

But I couldn’t forget the most crucial step
Underlying and tying it all in
It must have been wrapped in the love of a friend
For transforming to truly begin

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