Young, I lived the harmony of innocence,

heard stunning things, beheld new wonders,

built fleeting empires in the clouds,

felt the freedom of sailing ships on the wind.

 

Immersed in the serenity of a pond at sunrise

I felt strength in the pinks, oranges, reds . . .

Awed as they awoke the world to the glorious

splendors of nature’s gifts.

 

The taste and smell of freshly baked bread

Slathered with churned butter, cool from the spring house

And homemade may haw jelly, from wild fruit

Make my taste buds yearn for its return.

 

I remember holding acorns, listening

As they told glorious tales of the ages.

And I remember hearing raindrops sing.

Oh! What wondrous sights they have seen.

 

Mature, I reflect on those wonders,

with love and joy in my heart.

At peace with understanding of my life,

I ask, “Are those things still there?”