While meandering

Through the Country lanes

Alone

And Deep in thought

I contemplated everything

Asking how it came

To be

 

The trees

Entranced

And lost in dance

Appear as tortured souls

Some embrace their lover

Entwined and in full

Throe

 

Others prefer solitude

Standing tall and proud

They stretch up

Into the bluest blue

And seem to

Touch the clouds

 

Canopies alive with harmonies

From the choir of little birds

Enchant the local herds

Beguiling with their melody

They have no need for words

 

Along the way

I’m cossetted

By a tapestry

Of fields

Horses feast

On the greenest grass

Airbrushed by the morning dew

 

The silence is disturbed

A rustling follows

An Aawhoosh

Movement from behind

Alerts the senses to a potential ambush

Just in time to glimpse the deer

Before they disappear from view

With one almighty swoosh

 

When the fuss dies down

I turn to carry on my way

Just a moment inside a second

Before my breath is caught again

As the mountains

With their snow crowns

Beckon me to stay

For are we not the most beautiful

Of all that went before?

Is what they seem to say

 

And, I do declare

Possibly, it’s true!

But how am I to choose

Between the trees and the mountains

And skies of bluest blues?

Each has their own quality

The sum is equal to it’s parts

I’m afraid I have no answer

If I am to be true to my tender heart

 

Perhaps you can answer the query

The one that hurts my brain

How did you arrive here

And how do you remain?

But the mountains and the trees

Just stood and looked in disbelief

That’s not a question

You should ever ask of me

It’s important you remember

To learn just how to be

 

So my question still remains

How did all this come to be?

I am aware of all potential

Theories and philosophies

Not one of them can answer

The question that will always

Live in me

 

So I have decided to heed

The advice given by the mountains

And the trees

And simply enjoy learning

How to just be me.

 

C.K. 22