Ode to Wicomico Creek
I am back on the river.
Watching the tides caress the curves of carved shores.
The marsh grass swaying in the encore of its own celebration.
The lights of the sky reflected on waters dancing surface.
The calls of beings of flight accompanying, conducting the concert of the species bound to earth.
The rustling of the leaves varying in pitch dependent on the height and structure of the trees.
Singing a song of the rain to come
Of the gratitude for the day and the joy for another to tread its way.
Lured to sink into the rhythm of natures present.
Like the water rising and falling. forming clouds to feed in rain, springs, streams and oceans, the nature which allows us, conscience and devotion, confidence seeing through wisdoms eye, that everything must be born and everything must die.