Walk Home

Walk Home

My old ally the sun shines sparkling through the upright green whisperers
Blue infinity braces itself against the soft white drifting air
Sighing softly, she sings sweet shining breaths
As the leaves high upon the sky clap slowly in time with the sighs.

The shooshing of worn sandals against the black weathered pathway
Never ceases to turn, yet steadily onwards they climb
The steep riverbank to the crest of our rise, unhurried
By the strains and stress of the normality in daily anxieties.

Small gray lizards hide hurriedly for cover, scurrying
In the soft whispy undergrowth alongside the fenceline
Untroubled by the bigger-picture of worldweariness
They snooze about for leftovers, unfazed yet secretive.

The air breathes in leaves' sighing whispers
And small ducks nose searching the freshly-mown grass
For special gifts of fresh feed, unhurried by the roar
Of unwelcomed intruders that squeal by uncaringly.

My river sparkles golden, kaleidascoped by thousands
Of leaves dancing freely in the sighing air passing.


Maljam © 7 April 2003