They begin to come down
This time of year From the Mountains. And in my town, You are as likely To see them anywhere As you are to see people Or birds at the bird feeder. But if you are not careful, Just like birds They disappear. Did you know That there are people Who cannot see the birds, People who have not Seen them for years. It is one huge Mass of metal for them, And glass, and wood And papers filled with numbers, And dates on a page. But for those still alive To their soul questions In October After the first snows, The deeper world Of the mystic wood Seeps down into the towns, And if you watch, You will see it In their eye. And then you will know That that there is hope And that you are not Out of reach. Thank God!
0 Comments
Leave a Reply. |
Archives
September 2024
|