January 29, 1995 10:15 m
(Original verses written June 1, 1974)
When I retreat into my poet
All of life becomes my rhyme
Thoughts, like a gentle wind
Caress the corners of my mind.
Looking at a tall, old tree
Merging with its majesty
I know completely how it feels
To spread my arms protectively.
In autumn, leaves of red and gold
Scatter, crumbling as I stroll
I feel them as they turn to dust
Their beauty lives within my soul.
Seeing flowers in the spring
A riot of color and perfume
I feel a delicious sense of life
Fresh, as from a mother’s womb.
As if looking down from high above
Like a restless eagle or a soaring lark
I see the very soul of Earth
From within my poet’s empathic heart.