Near foot high grass on contoured lands
on winding stream where timber stands,
I longed to be on nature's sod
where furry ones and pilgrims trod.
While sitting there within my dream
on boulder overlooking stream,
I dreamt of living in the wood,
of peace and hopes among the good.
A little fish had caught my eye.
I asked of it, "Please tell me why...
why do you seem so content
without the shelter of a tent?"
It simply made a little splash
and said, "I don't need home or cash.
I am content when water's clean.
I don't need man to intervene".
A little fawn on nearby path
was soaking in a sunlit bath.
I held my breath and held my thrill,
as I sat there so quiet, still.
It's soft tan fur just begged a touch
but me, it didn't care for much.
It jumped off quick around a tree.
Where it had gone, I couldn't see.
I heard a nearby sparrow sing.
It wasn't rich and wasn't king.
But it enjoyed its outdoor space
away from man and human race.
Now it was happy, that I knew,
but when I sang, it quickly flew.
I knew that it would be alright
and watched 'til it was out of sight.
I wondered what would happen next,
what I could write within my text.
I felt the breeze and breathed it in,
then heard all nature's prayer begin.
It was in language seldom heard
from fish or beast or even bird,
yet nature praised the God above
with all its beauty, all its love.
Black city streets are not for me.
The stink, the noise should never be.
Encroaching here upon this scene
are man-made things grossly obscene.
They're out of sync and out of place.
It's just not right, a huge disgrace.
God gave this beauty to the man
and has for us a greater plan.
Our God will bless if we've obeyed,
so please protect what He has made.
All this is God's and that is fine.
It isn't yours and isn't mine.
Creation spoke to me in wood
in lovely word now understood.
Still, I fell short when I replied.
In faded echoes my words died.
This poem was a finalist in the January 2019 poetry contest