I miss…
The beauty of early morning cirrus wisps
Splashed with color over ever-lightening sky
Stirred with rays of the morning sun, rising, rising, rising
Gleaming over golden of short shorn wheat
And vibrant green of wayside grass
Lush and lavish in sun-dappled morning glory.
I miss the dew.
*************************************************************************
I miss…
The cool caress of wind on my face
On the late evening rides with young bright sorrel
That pulls on the reins to fly, fly, fly;
And the beauty of thick brown tail, and well- muscled legs
That stretch in quiet thunder down shadowy lane
In rhythm with the ever- rising, ever- setting sun.
I miss the catlight.
*************************************************************************
I miss…
I miss the silence of a sun-stilled afternoon
The dreams of the summer wind as it lies still and
Asleep in wide seas of wheat where waves lap, lap, lap
Against the never giving shores of green
Until the machines come with their powerful teeth
And eat away at the waves and the silence.
I miss the dust.
**********************************************************************************
I miss…
The sharp knife of wind in snow swept prairie
Stinging on numbed cheek, embracing the wild, the fierce
And bowed head against the cold, fighting, fighting, fighting
And after that the silence, and the swirl of snow
Floating with featherlike dance to the ground.
I miss the pain of cold.
**************************************************************************************
I miss….
The horizon that stretches far and away, and I can breathe
In the glory of a star spangled night in fields of sky
That stretch out their canopy wide, wide, wide
And wider still, never hampered, never cramped
By skyscrapers and man-made malls glimmering their incandescence
But go on and on and on.
I miss the sky.
****************************************************************************************
So God, show me how to find beauty in crowded cities
Where noise runs random and unchecked and the air is thick- smogged
With smoke and sorrow and the beat of grief that chants and chants and chants.
Show me where to find it in this sewer world of sin
Where jewels lie buried deep in the debris of human forgettings
And neglect.
Undug, unsought, unknown