Wednesday, January 29, 2014

The Pond

A sigh of relief,
Escapes as I sit by the pond.
Glassy, cool and clean.
If I could, I would sit here for hours;
Counting time backwards on the melting clock of life.
For days and for years,
For some even life;
Time passes by.
The wilderness, the wild creatures, all soothe the soul.
Yet we find a way to run away from the good things.
I could sit by my pond,
And not run away,
And kiss the ground I walk on.
Because I know it is good,
And I know that it loves me. 

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