IN THE PARK

IN THE PARK

I love the way the sun
pours through the leaves and splashes
to the ground in patches where the trees
are thick in the woods; someone spilled
the sunlight like a glass of milk.

Around a sharp turn in the path is a clearing
that startles the unprepared biker,
who finds himself suddenly arrested by
fuchsia wildflowers nearly four feet high.

Eating wild grapes and strawberries for a snack,
I sit at a chair and table of stone carved by Nature.
A spotted fawn on the bank of a stream,
flowing like a bolt of silk thrown on a bed of moss,
fearlessly turns his back on the world and me
to quench his thirst.

One immeasurable moment,
a blink in the eye of eternity,
ended by some territorial scuffle in the vines,
and the commonplace breaks into my reverie.
I could have touched that young deer;
he wandered that close to me.

Still, I'm grateful for those occasional brief glimpses
promising that there must be a past or
future time when discord is unknown,
encouraging me to have faith in my goal.

I pray for peace and the birth of an age
when we might face each other with wonder, not fear.
This untouched garden is a living example of unity;
when practiced long enough, harmony
becomes a self-perpetuating reward.

~ Broken Wings ~

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