The
climb is hard, the hill is steep,
Tired,
our breath is hard to keep.
The
refreshing scent of pine is in the air,
In
the meadow, there are flowers everywhere.
The
day is cool, the sun is low,
With
joy, our faces glow.
The
warm breeze whispers through the pine,
“Welcome
to this beautiful earth of mine,
Let
me caress your skin with fingers soft,
While
I carry your travails aloft.”
A
lonely eagle glides through the sky,
Majestic
and proud, it swerves on by.
As
if saying, “I am the king, the master,
You
are welcome my brother and sister
As
guests to not disturb my land I desire,
Or
you will face my rapacious ire.”
There
is a glen beyond the meadow,
A
lonely willow stands in the middle,
It’s
curved branches a lovely riddle,
“please
be welcome to my shadow”
As
we approach, a bubbling, playful sound
A
gurgling brook through the glen meanders,
She
gazes to the stream we found,
And
off to greet it she wanders.
Her
face she washes in the water,
the sun reflects in her auburn hair
The
drops of water on her face flare,
And
create a thousand colored rainbow.
The
squirrels stop their quarrel to gander,
And
they approach her, very slow.
As
the sun hides in the west,
Timid,
the stars awake from their rest.
Up
in the northern skies,
Near
where the Little Dipper lies,
Just
beyond the polar star,
Comes
a magical light from afar.
Ever
so quickly sneaks in the night,
Happy
now, the stars shine bright.
Hungry,
with powerful strokes, owls take flight,
While
we both marvel at Lynx’s light.
Pedro Marenco
© Sacramento, CA August 31, 1997