Monday, April 7, 2014

The Short Walk

The Short Walk

I only meant to go for a short walk

but the trees beckoned me to go a little deeper
the red-winged blackbird clicked at me to follow.

The wet smells of earth and compost wafted by
as dried stalks of last years cattails crunched under my feet.

The bullfrog tempted me over to the pond to find him
while I was waiting
a quail couple came for a drink.

As the veil of my own mind fell
reflections of trees opened to me
silky sunlit spider webs drifted by.

A robin took a bath in front of me
honeybees flitted across the mud bank
while invisible creatures underwater rippled the surface.

Small birds darted in and out
of the blackberry bushes taking sips of water
preening their wings.

Mating rituals and shrills of spring delight
surrounded me in stereophonic cacophony.

Eventually the shadows of morning grew short
 the air became dry and dusty.

The hours had passed so quickly.

A touch of melancholy caused my heart to skip a beat
when the bullfrog teased me to stay longer and find him.

"Another day!" I said to no one.
 With gratitude and renewed spirit
I took the short walk home.

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