Black Elk

Black Elk
Tower of the Four Winds

James M M Baldwin
 
Tree lined pastures rise and crest.
Long white clouds drift unobstructed by blue-eyed-heavens.
Leaves shed sunlit tears across green grass.
Valleys fall to shaded floors deep below.
 
Well-trodden paths meander.
Tiresome climbs.
Leisurely descents.
Bumble bees chase overcurious onlookers from nectar laden blossoms.
 
Bark, gnarly with age, others tender and smooth.
More leaf shapes than most could ever know.
Some reaching high to drink in light.
Others content in their unassuming stature.
 
Multitudinous birdsongs flood clean air nestled between rolling hills.
Numerous flora aromas combine as one bouquet.
Blue jay wings flit unheard through branches.
Unseen insects orchestrate waving grasslands.
 
Sparrows flutter when the man enters their hidden meadow.
Shade welcomes weary travelers.
Smell of green hangs heavy.
Stop, rest, contemplate.

A train whistle blows hidden in the distance.

Peace and love,

Jim