| [ My Poetry List ] Blogs Cooking Stories [ Poetry Publisher ] |
All That I See This place has formed me, as sure as my mother’s womb. What I am breathes through the trees. My eyes drink in all that I see, as the coolest waters that nourish me, quenching me from my birth, teaching me what life is worth. Mountain ranges, forested hills, my longing heart stills. Cradled in the deepest valleys, lifted to the highest levee. Forests return from winter’s keep, awakening from its naked sleep, darkest brown to deepest green, then to majestic Autumn’s gleam. To not come back and view it new, a soul starved would ensue. To never travel its winding roads, would lock a history untold. Isaiah 55:12 “You will go out in joy And be led forth in peace: the Mountains and hills will burst into song before You, and all the trees of the field will clap their hands.” Susan Hebert Ajaz copyright 2001 poetrypublisher.com/sajaz |