The Gift of Nature
(Two Poems by Steve Robbins)
What's It Like in a "Strange Land"
Many times in this long forgotten land
The leaf had died on an ancient tree
I felt a strangeness watching it drift
As if I were this leaf falling
The land consumed its space unknowingly
While hardly guiding the traveler
Who also watched this leaf
Being consumed and thoughtless in the process
If yesterday was a signal from our past
I kept losing something in the translation
Floating as the leaf ever falling
While not seeing anything coming
It reminds me of life ever moving
Our only view through the rearview mirror
Seeing the past clearly through a light haze
And the future as a darkroom, empty
I want to be the farmer, the planter of seeds
Ever growing and creating life through care and thoughtfulness
The process gives us a glimpse into the future
Knowing what’s to come at the harvest
Planting a tree is like creating a life
Which somewhat mirrors our own existence
Watching it grow to a strong oak
From a small and insignificant seed
After the Rain
Now on the wind
Thousands of raindrops
Wash away the restless air.
Cleansing fragrance
Fresh, like cut cedar
Seeps into the nighttime sky.
Grassland, leaves, trees
Rooftops and moonlight
Revealing a sparkly façade.
Under a broken gray
Distant lightening
Preens the cloudiness.
Along the river bank
Spider webs glazed with raindrops
Glisten like strings of pearls.
A croaking frog stirs the quiet
And then another
Until a showery chorus ensues.
I sit on the threshold
Dabbling thoughts with dusk
Along with the thunder’s echo.
Thinking of tomorrow.
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