|[ My Poetry List ] Blogs Cooking Stories [ Poetry Publisher ]|
All That I See
This place has formed me,
as sure as my motherís 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 winterís keep,
awakening from its naked sleep,
darkest brown to deepest green,
then to majestic Autumnís 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 ďYou 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.Ē
Susan Hebert Ajaz