As the wind blows
The sunshade creaks
And windchimes discordantly speak.
Who knows
Where all this goes
When I sleep.
As the wind blows
The sunshade creaks
And windchimes discordantly speak.
Who knows
Where all this goes
When I sleep.
The ageless wind
In these waving trees
Whispers to me
Of eternity.
Passing by a lorry
I smile
At that metal thing.
So temporary.
While the wild wind
Is forever free.
Traffic goes by
It’s sound amplified by rain.
A plane flies
In the summer sky
And birds sing.
While I compose my poetry
Touching on eternity
And the fleeting spring.
Alone, I walk the woodland path.
No one with whom to laugh
While in the endless sky
A plane goes by
As I dwell on love.
But birds still sing
In autumn and spring,
And I have this wood
And the autumn sun.
At night
I rhyme
Of scattered leaves
And fleeting time.
When I trace
Time’s impassive face
I see eternity,
Vast, and empty,
Waiting for me.
On my walks
I often find
That inner talk
Distracts my mind.
Then, the breeze
Rustles Autumn leaves
Reminding me
Of eternity.
Shall I intrude
Into their quietude?
The wind sings
As I,
Alone
Pass by
Gravestone.
Time has stopped,
For those below.
I have the clock
And somewhere to go.
But the wind sings
Softly to me
In the churchyard tree.
The sun shines on my study wall.
I recall many a trip and fall.
Enjoy the sun’s light
‘Ere the ever-present night,
Covers all your delight
I hear the rain, again.
How it does pour,
Over city street, and moor
When I go my way,
The rain will stay.
But others will remain,
Listening to the rain.