As I walked a mountain glen,
The path well trod before me lay,
Cool air whispered to my skin,
Beckoning, “Come in joy, let us play.”
A slope cast up a craggy peak,
Where stood an ancient pine,
The sentinel of solace I did seek,
To stop this march of autumn time.
There the light is where creation lay,
Reclined upon a bed of holy myth,
Guiding souls who lost their way,
Having stumbled into life’s darkened rift.
So I paused beneath the shadow,
Of that wise giant barked tree,
Back pressed against the fertile meadow,
Dreams came to set me free.
In my slumber the glen drew near,
Nature softly whispered my name,
Saying there is nothing here to fear,
In life all creatures are one in the same.
The flowers nodded their petal lips,
Their heady fragrance caught my breath,
I smiled for the happiness of this place,
The gateway to lasting peace in death.
Copyright: 2009, Donald Harbour