Mind Symphonies

Ev'ry so often one sits down to contemplate,
And upon sitting writes down their thoughts.
Be they long, or short, grand or small,
Somehow they weave and find their way onto a page, 

And form a masterpiece of this person's mind symphony.

Love, Me.

My Favorite View

Glittering lights

A fallen constellation from the sky.

Housing a hundred thousand souls, shining in the moonlight.  A hundred thousand wishes to make.  A hundred million breaths to keep.

Laid out like a blanket from the heavens.

A cluster of shooting stars follow a path made just for them.  Some close to home.  Some with far to travel.

I sit alone, up here watching.  Gazing at my valley constellation.  A blessing of a view when there's none in the sky.  A beauty in the eye of the beholder.

Some lights shine out over the lake.  Their echo seen across the surface.  Some spell out words too faint and distant to see.  Some spell not at all - just a beacon to let the world know they are there.

Some lights house sadness, some joy.  Some shine brightly while others- a bare glow.  The frosty air descends and a hush falls over the city.  A city of lights.

A world upside-down.  Lights on the ground instead of the head.  Close your eyes tightly and keep your breath held.  Turn slightly and let your breath sigh...as you leave your thoughts many to the One in the sky.

A thousand glittering lights lay below, and I am up here, with no wish to go.  For once I leave I must find my place and where to go.  So before I leave I catch and see the first set of starlight from the heavens.  Shining softly in the sky, housing millions more than mine.  A simple elegance that can't compare.  I suppose a hope is found up there.

Twinkling starlights in the night - bring me home safe, I pray, tonight.

Love, Me.

That Lonely Walk

Learn to walk that lonely road.
Learn to sing that song alone.
Find your path next to no one,
Learn to walk that lonely road.

Keep your thoughts just to yourself.
Keep those wishes dear in range,
Try that smile, don't matter fear,
Keep your hopes inside of here.

Forget the sound of sweet harmony.
Forget the bliss of being free.
Face the road and icy glare;
Forget the past; you can't stay there.

Leave the heartache and worried fear.
Leave the pain from letting near.
Go your way with thoughts inclined, to
Leave the sound of voices twined.

Let no anger rise within.
Let no frustrations grow or pound.
Put up that face of bravery,
Let only strength be seen from me.

Know that this pain will someday pass.
Know that I knew this time could come.
Perhaps 'twas never meant to be,
Know yet there's still pain in store for me.

Get used to turning away.
Get no hopes or intentions.
Realize someday will be okay, and
Get back to the former way.

Give all you can for everyone else.
Give no thought for yourself.
Quell the hate and hurt and fears,
Give no place for pain-filled tears.

Learn to walk that lonely road.
Learn to re-love being yourself.
Apart from what you had, take your load, ...and
Learn to walk that lonely road, alone.














Inspired by: "Lonesome Road" The King Singers, "Learn to be Lonely" Phantom of the Opera, Life.

Love, Me.

-Written 10/19/2012

To those from 9/11 eleven years ago...

We remember.  Solemn minds.

We salute.       Steady hands.

We love.             Full hearts.

We thank.         Whole voice.

We pledge.            Our lives.

To you.

Love, Me.

I Have Moved On

I know that I'm over you. I can walk down the street and smile when I think about you and where you are now. I don't lay awake for hours before falling asleep wondering where you are and why we're not together.

So why does something someone else do or say make my heart pound and my breath catch and my limbs freeze as I am trapped in a memory of you?

After a few moments I am freed from this grip of the past, and reality comes flowing back with the long, shallow breath I take and I close my eyes to wait for the dizziness to pass, and I wonder; Why does that happen? Am I really over you?

I have my answer a few moments later when breathing is restored to normal, and it doesn't pain to think about you, good times and bad. When it doesn't feel like my heart is being squeezed and wrenched unkindly from its place in my chest. When I'm not stopped in my tracks to bend doubled over from how hard it hurts. No tears come, though they wouldn't have.

And though for a moment I may be sad for what was seemingly lost...I look down the summery road, through the golden sunlit air and tree-lined walk, and watch you smile and hear you laugh and play...and find peace in being able to turn away.

And I know I have moved on.

Down my own road, through the tree-lined walk to a single maple tree overlooking a still pond, where grass grows as tall as your knees, and flowers bloom freely but without overabundance, where a single lark can be heard calling out his melody to be answered across the meadow by his friend. Where you can lay out at night and watch the stars glow in the sky as it turns, where you wish on the ones that fall from their places, where you can feel the warm breeze turn cool during the night, and smell the fresh air from a valley away. Where I wait without waiting, breathe without breathing, and grow without knowing. Someday someone will join me. So with peace, farewell to you. I am here, living in solace.

Solace I have been waiting a lifetime for, and found.

Love, Me.

The Kingdom

Once upon a time there was a Kingdom far away. Every child had heard of it before they could talk. Every child dreamed of it before they could walk. The stories told about it created pictures full of wonder and excitement.  Streets paved with gold, water so sweet it glistened in the sun and made you feel lighter, fruit so whole and healthy you only had to take a large basket to get a single bushel of grapes. 

One little girl dreamed of traveling there one day and meeting the kings and queens and rulers of might said to live there. She had no crown upon her head.  No grand rug beneath her feet. Yet she hoped and wished with all she had that some day, she would be considered a princess and could enter.  She worked with all her might, cleaning the dust off of travelor's shoes, mending holes in jackets, saving pennies in hopes of acquiring enough money to pay her passage into The Kingdom.

The girl grew.  She saved all she could, often going without meals to have another coin to add to her purse.   Slowly, surely, her saving grew, and she herself grew taller and even more beautiful.  Finally, she had what she felt to be enough.  She sold her small home, packed a satchel with her few belongings, and readied herself for the morning. 

Waking, she ate a small breakfast, scrubbed her face in the icy water from a morning water barrel, set her face to the East, and began walking.  It wasn't before long that she came across a woman and her children struggling to pull a cart full of meager belongings, slowly working their way across the beaten road.  The girl came up and grabbed hold of a side of the small cart, steadied it, and with a warm smile, began to help pull.

The mother smiled gratefully, and the children chattered playfully as the two women pulled side by side.  The mother sold bread and washed laundry, and had to work hard to get by.  The girl told how she was seeking The Kingdom, and they all marvelled at the glory surely to come.  At a crossroad, the girl stopped, pulled out some coins and slipped them into the young mother's hand. 

"Take this, for your need is greater than mine", she said.

With hearts full they clasped each other, and continued on their ways.

A child ran back with a small red scarf.  "Momma says this's fo' you.  Remember your love".  The Girl wrapped it around her neck, scooped the child in her arms, and gave her a coin. "Many thanks to your mother", and the child ran back.

Soon the Girl came upon an old man, stooped with age and weathered by years working in the sun.  She ran to him, and supported him on her arm.  They talked, and he told her how he was a woodsman, and could carve anything, anything at all.  The girl laughed and told him how she was on her way to The Kingdom, to meet a king just like him.  The man smiled and said, "Oh, I am no king. But let me make something for you".  And he whittled and carved, and soon handed a small life-like horse to her.  "Remember your strength".  She gratefully hugged him, slipped him some coins, and they parted ways.

The Girl kept traveling.  She crossed rivers and pastures, and forests and streams.  Whenever she met someone, they would talk and rejoice in her quest for The Kingdom.  She would give them of her precious coins- her life's work- and continue on her way, her purse getting lighter and lighter.

The Girl often slept under the stars, and listen to the creatures of the earth call to each other- the wolf mournfully to its pack, the owls curiously to each other as they sat in the trees.  She sometimes gave her food to young children she'd see.  Still she searched.  Still she dreamed of the day she would reach The Kingdom, and oh, how she hoped she would still have enough.  Yet each day, her resources grew smaller, and smaller. 

Then came the day that she gave with a smile her last coin to a beggar woman everyone else avoided.  When she turned the corner, she fell to the ground and wept, for she had just given away the last of her money.  How now could she enter the place she had worked for her entire life?  With an unknown strength, and with an imperceptible voice on the wind, she rose, wiped the tears from her face, and walked on the beckoning path.

Finally the day came.  The path grew light in front of her, and her soul grew with joy to hear the wonderful sounds that came from within the gates of The Kingdom.  Tears of joy filled her eyes to have finally arrived, and she quickened her pace.  Then the tears turned to sadness as a man came to the gate.

"Hail, to the approacher of this Gate.  What brings you here?"

Her heart fluttered.  "I Seek The Kingdom."

"Well, you have found it.  What do you bring?"

Her heart dropped, and her eyes filled with sadness.  "I surely cannot come in."

The man looked puzzled.  "And why is that?" "Good sir, I have no money. I cannot afford to come in."

The Man smiled with loving compassion.  "Oh, dear Sister. You have brought more than what money could buy.  Let me see in your bag."  The girl felt a moment of alarm.  That was where she kept her remaining precious belongings.  Still, she reached in and pulled out the contents, starting with the horse, carefully crafted.  "To remember Strength."  A book. "To remember wisdom".  A bell. "To remember beauty and music". A small pressed flower and feather. "Wonder".  A thorn.  "Trials".  Lastly she unwound the scarf from her neck.  "To remember Love".

The Man smiled and opened His arms.
"All of these things have shown me who you are, and are better than any money for things to buy.   And now, one gift from Me".

He pulled out a small piece of looking glass.  "A teardrop from The King's eye, so you may see yourself as He sees you.  Enter, my sister, and friend; you have earned your way.  Take this, and Remember Your Worth".

The girl stepped inside with eyes full of tears of wonder.  The Kingdom, with glittering streets, beautiful flowers, and peace.  She had finally made it.  As she turned, she saw that the man was The King's own Son.  He wrapped her in His arms, and whispered,

"My Sister, Welcome Home".

The End.

Love, Me.

~Dedicated to the One Who Heard it First~

Leap, Fly, Sing

Sitting quietly
Silently pondering
on things of the Future,
Present
and Past.

Sorting through feelings,
Re-running memories,
Filing
and Feeling
and Thinking.
Of what?

Everything.
And Nothing.
This, and that. Here,
and Tomorrow.
Back and Then,

Over and over,
New once again.
Repeating,
Echoing,
Silent. Again...

I'm back where I sat.
Invisibly seen.
Quietly conscious of what
this Could mean.

Rhyming on some.
Telling on others.
Content and I Wonder.
Where does the time go?

I forget it's December.
I hear whisp'rings of Spring.
I want to go Running,
or Flying,
or sing.

Something. . .
Something.

Inside me it's Spring.


Love, Me.

Life

Sometimes I don't know what to do.
Should I sit? Sing? Dance? Draw?
So I get on here, and blog.

Sometimes my insides just sit there and wait,
Just sit there and sit there,
Doing nothing. Barey moving, barely noticable.

Others a part of my soul is pushing at all parts of reality,

Trapped,

And can hardly contain a gut-wrenching scream to all parts of the universe.

Sometimes a part of me wants to sit in a hammock,
In my own little corner of the world,
And sit there and weep and breathe and cry.

Occasionally I'll get anxious, and restless,
And my fingers will play long, fast scales up and down the keyboard.
So long and hard it makes my arms ache.

Sometimes I stay up late into the night,

Because I can't sleep, can't dream.

Can't dream. For all the sweetness it brings, waking hurts.

Once I sat out with a friend, watching a movies under the stars.
I sat for long periods of time watching the sky,
And the moon, and the stars. Forgoing the movie. Just observing.

Sometimes I just want to talk.
Just talk. Remember. Nothing else.
Just, talk.

Of course, just as often I'd rather listen.
Hear others express themselves.
Because it's nice to be heard.

Sometimes I wonder, how can someone be so torn, so confused?

Content, and filled with longing at the same time?

Wonder, and yet know the reason why the whole time?

One day I'll know. I'll be fine.

Til then, I'll keep walking down this long, dusty road.

Longing, Listening, Loving. Learning.

Love, Me.

Sometimes Poems Don't Have Words

Sometimes poems don't have words,
and a phrase can be understood in a beautiful landscape.
Maybe it's a wave in an ocean,
or Perhaps the song of a bird.

Sometimes the swelling of a song,
That gentle and sweet breeze of sound
Can tell you more in a moment without words
Than a thousand dictionaries in the world ever could.

Sometimes a simple smile. A friendly hug.
A touch, a wave, a moment of laughter.
All exchanges. All magical. All poems in their own.
None requiring words.

Sometimes poems are recognized for their length,
Or perhaps the Honor of those who write them.
Some are known for their rhythm or rhyme,
Or the intricate stories the author weaves in them.

Sometimes a poem is as simple as a person
Pleading for someone to stay, to live,
And to hear that tender reply,
"I have."

Sometimes poems don't have words.
This one does,
So you can hear what you may not see.

"Your life is an occasion. Rise to it."

Love, Me.

Poems by my brilliant brother, Nathan. I was absolutely entranced. Here they are, for you to read. Enjoy....... :)

Music



Bursting through all senses


Inspiring my entire mind


Enveloping it, I am consumed by it


I am a master, I can accomplish much


All things are comprehended


My entire being is motivated


My spirit is speeding, flying


My mind is powerfully concentrating


My body is twirling, flipping, spinning, dodging, lunging


And then a change…


I am now an omniscient teacher,


Flowing with streaming movements


Teaching my humble students.


I soar through the sky,


Absorbing the sun’s rays


When I am suddenly whisked away into a ground-shaking battle.


I immediately charge into the fray,


Knowing that, even though their weapons screamed as they flew by,


I would defeat them.

-Nathaniel King

Ten Living iPhones

Ten living iPhones started to walk,

One was purchased and used as a rock.

Nine living iPhones walked to the Sprint store,

One found an Android and existed no more.

Eight living iPhones had a nice day,

One accidentally fell onto a lunch tray.

Seven living iPhones drove to the school,

One fell out the window and landed in some guy’s pool.

Six living iPhones found a live wire,

One put its finger in and then there was a big fire.

Five living iPhones thought they would eat,

One got trapped in an oven and melted from the heat.

Four living iPhones were sitting in a tree,

One got pushed off and then there were three.

Three living iPhones downloaded an experimental app,

One downloaded a virus and now is just a scrap.

Two living iPhones were getting very scared,

One took a little jog, but by trucks he was not spared.

One living iPhone didn’t know what to do,

So an old lady came up and baked him in her stew.

-Nathan King

The Girl and the Sky

Once there was a Girl thinking of a friend. She thought and She loved so much that She created a flower, one of great beauty and sweet smell. It's orange petals sang so sweetly in the breeze, that She created another flower, and called it Red, for the fragrence of apples was so strong it turned the leaves to fruit. Delighted in Her creations, She was compelled to create more beauties; spinning yellows, pale blues, vibrant purples, tender greens, and more.

 

The Sky became captivated by Her creations, and shone brightly on her precious flowers. He noticed Her tears as She beheld Winter approaching, where Her precious colors would be put away for a time. The Sky asked for a blessing of Her graceful beauty, to hold in His care when the world saw Her beauties, and to show when it forgot. So the Girl took some of Her best creations; the reds, pinks, orange, yellows, blues, purples and so many more colors, and held them dearly to Her chest. When She opened Her arms, the breeze caught the creations and carried them to the Sky, where they are put on display for a short time, to remind us of the beauties from Earth. The Girl looked up to the heavens and found Her colors in beautiful array, and smiled.

The Girl grew old, and one day no longer walked the long roads lined with Her colors. The Sky searched all over for Her, but could not find Her, for She was buried beneath an expanse of Red, Orange, Blue, Purple, Green, and Yellow. When He realized this fate, the Sky pulled a blanket of clouds over His face, and cried out great cascades of rain for His Friend. With amazement, the Sky found that with each drop of water, the flowers grew stronger. The Rain came softer, gentler, easing into a mist. The Sky eased His face out with the Sun, and wished for a way to honor. She was the most beautiful and gracious of all, and deserved beauty.  So as a tribute to the Girl, the Sky let down some of the colors She had given Him in the best ribbon He had- a Rainbow. As the sparkling light touched the ground, the Earth sang with a flutter of bird's wings, rustle of tree leaves, and sigh of flower's petals, and joy was forever known throughout the land.

Every so often you can see the story of the Sky and the Girl.  Every so often you can hear the laughter and see the joy that was shared.  And ever so sweetly, You may yet be able to see the pathway of the Rainbow that the Girl took on Her way from the Earth to the Sky.

All because a Girl thought of a friend.

"What's life without a dream?" -Joey Cannon

Love, Me.

Through the Looking Glass

I look in the mirror, and who do I see?
It seems I should know the girl staring at me.

Some days she smiles, some she seems sad.
Sometimes I wonder what kind of day she has had.

At a glance, she's a woman. On a whim, she's a girl.
Some days her age just seems a great whirl.

Her eyes can be haunting, dark green or bright clear.
I cannot recall the last they allowed tears.

Sometimes her cheeks blush, but often they're pale.
I've seen her put blush on, most time to no avail.

Her lips become full as she applies her sweet balm,
They deepen in color and smile real calm.

Some days it takes much to lighten that face.
I just want to reach out and those sad lines erase.

But before I can get much too close to reach her,
She turns quickly away, leaving sight in a blur.

Some days she's a beauty, and I just stop and stare,
And admire her eyes, and her smile, and her hair.

I don't think she minds, this enrapture from me.
It's amazing for me to be near one as she.

Sometimes she'll come home, and with a look through the glass
I know it's been hard keeping up in her class.

Some days her clothes fit her, and she curtsies at me.
Often they hang loose, with dismay I can see.

She'll leave early morning, late at night she'll come in.
Sometimes I wonder if she's eaten anything.

Sometimes she'll avert her eyes from your stare,
I wonder what secrets she hides under there.

She never will tell, just smiles with a nod.
I wonder how long she can keep this facade.

I wonder what kind of a world she lives in.
Is the food really good? Do her shoes ever wear thin?

I wonder what placees she visits and sees.
Building real high? Forests and trees?

Perhaps she's a hero, and saves lives at night.
Maybe she sometimes prefers to have light.

Does she like movies with tales of lore,
Of maids in long dresses, and men off to war?

Does she sit in the sunlight and read a good book?
Does she dance in the moonlight in her own little nook?

Two worlds joined by glass, a portal of sorts.
So much to be said, much more is left short.

Oh, the things I could know of the one that I see.
The thing that's queer most- is that woman there is me.

I want to Fly.....

I want to Fly.... but first, I must See....
Fly, to the sky!
See, to be free!!
Ah, what glorious feeling that would be....

Anyone care to join? There's plenty of room, and space to grow.
Plenty to share and feel with me,
For the Wind takes up as much room as the Sea,
And though covers the land, is quiet as can be,
And softly, can comfort what eyes cannot see.
A blanket for hearts, and the land, and the sea...

I want to Live, but first, I must Know;
What I'm striving to, what I'm yearning for.
For time will move forward with or without me,
And stop when I've found what will set myself free.
 
There comes a time when Time itself ends.
The days become weeks, the names are just penned.
When you forget who you are, and why you were there,
Just living the moment, letting down your hair,
Regarding no age, no time nor no past,
Just letting life go- is when Life seems to last. :)
 
I want to Rest, but first, I must Work.
Rest, to know peace,
Work, to find rest...
Ambiguous. One cannot be without the other.
Where is my balance?
What truly are my desires?
 
I just want to Fly.
I only wish Love.
I yearn for Peace.
I desire Care.
 
Do I wait? Do I go? Do I try? Will I know?
 
Ahh, but I just want to fly.... :)
 
Love, Me.

It is...That is, Life...

Grow is the song of the young aspen tree,
Paint is the joy found in art.
Hear is the tune sung in bird's melodies,
Sing is the full body's part.

Learn is the will of a young child's mind,
See is the view of the Mount.
Feel is the sound that the pianist brings,
Peace is the strings of guitar.

Cry is the pain that all tragedy knows,
Laugh is the healing inside.
Know is the look from a wise man's mind,
Care is the hug from mankind.

Run is the release of a child at play,
Walk is the talk of the friend.
Swing is the call of the tree with a rope;
Fly is the song of the heart.

Write is the soul of the woman who thinks,
Show is the meaning of truth.
Smile is the knowledge of some greater meaning,
Love is the meaning of life.

Love, Me.

Would you?...

If you could do things over in life, what would you do?

Would you laugh more? Sing louder? Cry less?
Would you care stronger? Love harder? Hate less?

Would you try again, even if you knew you would fail?
Would you send handwritten letters to your loved ones by mail?

Would you listen better- at home, at school, and abroad?
Would you plant flowers, help others, praise God?

Would you maybe go fishing with your sibling or father,
     Even though it's not really your "thing"?
Would you sit down more evenings and listen to whether
     Your mother had reason to sing?

Would you bite back that word that you let slip by your tongue?
Would you help a young neighbor climb up a slide rung?

Would you bake up a cake, and give it away?
Would you give of yourself the best every day?

Would you spend less time talking, and some more time doing?
Would you think more of others, and less often of you?

Would you give all your friends a warm hug every day?
Would you tell your sweet family "I love you" every way?

Would you dance in the rain more?
Would you play in the sun?
Would you chase after rainbows when a big storm is done?

Would you say to that person, "I think you are neat"
     Regardless of how they may act or may think?

Would you spend all your days wishing for things out of your range?
...Or would you get up and get out there, and make a great change?

It's up to you.  Today is your day.
What you make of it all is in all that you say.
Get up and leave reason; just give of your best.
Do all you can do, and let God do the rest.

It's true you may not make the best choices in life.
It comes with the deal- it's something called strife.
But you can make today a yesterday worth living,
And look forward to tomorrow- a whole new day full of giving! :)

Love, Me.

A site to blog, and a mind to explore...

A chance to rest from hard work's drum
A time to think before I'm gone
A place to sit before I run
A friend to see before I'm done.

A place to pray and feel at peace
A name to praise and sing His grace
A man to teach about life's mills
A girl to learn of said life's wills.

A spot to sit and see the view
An ear to turn to hear the world
A time to leave life behind me
A chance to see what God must see.

A man upon a mountain's tower
An open channel for great power
A vision seen, and then he knew
A place is here for me and you.

A spot to sit and rest up some
A view to feast, and rest eyes on
A time to sit, and a time to play
A chance to write about my day.

BYU, JFSB, Education in Zion exhibit, floor 2, east side.  By the windows...

Love, Me.

The Road Less Traveled...and Loved Along the Way...

I didn't do all that I "should have"...
I'm not saying I did wrong;
It's just when opportunity came up-
I couldn't pass along.

I woke a little earlier
And with that extra time
Said to my younger brother,
"Happy birthday, friend of mine."

I walked along at campus
And on my way to class,
Was sprayed by a stray sprinkler
That wasn't on the grass.

I could have scoffed, I chose to laugh,
And walked with higher step,
(Though hard to do, I must admit
With a textbook along with HEP)

I ate outside, enjoyed the sun-
Who knows how long She's there?
The leaves on all the tree's'll be gone,
With Winter in the air.

I used that bit of money
You know, my little spare?
And with it bought a present
For my brother, with such care.

My sister and I sang all the way home,
With the windows rolled way down,
You could tell we both were tired,
But we sang out for the town.

I played a little tune
With my brother oh so fun.
(We played a little harder
When out the window we'd see someone.) ;-)

And then tonight, at not quite nine
My homework yet to start,
My little sister comes to my side,
And tugs upon my heart.

So side by side, we sit and read
For "just a minute more..."
She snuggles by my arm, and heeds
My every word in store.

I did some homework; I read some books
I didn't finish, though...
But I'd never trade a day of books
For what I learned at home.

You can always gain more knowledge.
You can always buy more stuff.
But there's one thing you can't make up for-
It's for loving not enough.

That's why I chose my family
Over something, though important, yes.
Though I enjoy learning dearly,
I love my loved ones best.

It's late at night, it's time for bed
I know there's more to do.
But I have one question: With days like this...
What would you choose to do?

This, is Home.

Tonight I drove up Cascade Drive.
Not for any reason, except maybe the view.
It's beautiful...
I sat on this rock, where I am now,
Silent.  Not thinking.  Just letting my mind wander,
roam where it pleases in the open area.
Warm.  The rock is warm, and friendly, almost.
The air is cool, yet the wind is warm, and flows
around, like my mind.  Home, it says.
Dark purple mountains, outlined in orange light.
Water is silent, peaceful, undisturbed tonight.
I breathe in the smell of Utah.  Of the hills
by where I live.  I came here on a whim, so
what comfort am I seeking?


That of the Wind.


As I write it grows stronger, and recognizes.
Some say nature is silent.  I disagree.
You just have to listen for a language not of your own.
You have to listen with something
other than your ears to hear...
The Voice of the Wind.  The Tales of the Sea. 
The Whisperings of the Grass...the Comfort of
a Rock.
Beauty.   Simply....beauty....


This is earth.


This, is Home. :)
8:35pm-8:45pm

Love, Me.

A Walk With Nature

A walk down the road
I had seen such a treat
Nature helped to unload
Some of life's great feats.

The wind whipped around me
A chorus of glee;
I was already home
Where I needed to be.

The tree reached out softly
And placed on my cheek
A peck of dear kindness,
A hug of sweet peace.

The roses sang out
In their own special song
And filled my nose
With a sweet smelling throng.

The rain when it came
Fell upon me like wishes
And each of those drops
Felt like tender sweet kisses.

The sky, how it danced
And put on a display
Of thunder and lightning
And rain on the way.

I walk up my path,
My shoes in my hand, now
My soul is at rest
From my walk home with Nature.