Tag: Solitary Walks

Solitary Walks – III

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The mind goes back to when he was alive
To possibility – and to his heart –
A bench out in the woods, a moment shared,
And how the world seemed bigger than it was

But there is only silence, and a way
Of seeing things that comes when overgrowth
Crawls over landscape, tree, and every inch
Of heart he left exposed to feel its touch

And who is she now, she that he recalls?
Comes there the night or day, where’er she is,
That she remembers him, remembers this?
Or does the wild ivy hide the bench?

For all that is connection can be lost;
For summer burns and winter kills with ice,
And old age holds illusions to the last,
Though none may sit again as they did there

Solitary Walks – VI

On By Beleaguered ServantIn Original Poems1 Comment

At last, the sun goes down; the walker leans upon his walking stick, looking across the fields at the edge of the forest. What barriers there are, he thinks, will one day be taken down; what separates us, he believes, is nothing we can’t help each other to get over.

Solitary Walks – V

On By Beleaguered ServantIn Original Poems2 Comments

Like us, the water reflects the color
Of all that grows around it:

Gray and bare, when skies are gray
And trees are bare –

Lush and green, when rains have been plentiful
And trees grow with all their lust for living

Like us, the water hides its secrets,
Shields its young,
Covers over many sins,
And changes, ever, even in stillness

The water also lives, as sometimes we do,
Being walked over

Solitary Walks – IV

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Out on the edge, a barn of certain age
Sits waiting, though abandoned long ago.
I’d bring him comfort, if I could assuage
His loneliness with anything I know:
But he’s a stolid, stoic sort of sage,
Who takes his comfort where he finds it. So —

Instead, I look inside to where the light
Is shining on the lumber with regret;
I think it’s likely spooky here at night,
The kind of place that friends go on a bet
You’re pranking, watching as they reach full flight
After the joke is sprung you lately set.

The barn, though, disapproves this sort of joke:
He’s got his dignity, this lonely bloke —

Solitary Walks – II

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The sun’s a thoughtless killer, how
It blazes carelessly:
This path protects the forest, but
The forest protects me.

And shielded in its reticence,
Renew the ancient trust:
We must protect the woods, so that
The woods can protect
Us

Solitary Walks – I

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It’s early, and
The waking trees
Are moving slightly
With the breeze

I walk along
The forest edge
Although but lightly
I’ll allege

To each, indeed,
To all I see;
But that will not
Be many –

For I am out
Here all alone,
Companions I’ve
Not any.

It’s early, and
The woods unknown
To me, are calling
Out my name –

I find a path
To make my way,
With no forestalling
And no blame –

To each I find
I’d say I word,
But I will see
No faces

Except those of
The ancient trees
Where I still find
Small traces

Of forest lore
From long ago,
Of people dead
And gone

Who only come
When you’re alone
And it is just
Past dawn