The Magic of Nature


IMG_8516
Image by harrischristopoulos via Flickr

When I was a
child I might disappear for awhile,

Looking for
places that were deemed worthwhile,

The top of a
tree, Inside a fortress of hay,

To observe
the magic of nature just for the day,

But I didn’t
want to be late for dinner,

Southern
cornbread, fried potatoes and beans,

Tomatoes,
onions, pokesalad greens,

If I was
hungry come and get it while it’s hot,

If I had to
be called twice, I guess I’m not,

But I had to
see the speckled eggs in a bluebird’s nest,

Stop to
watch the piglets feed at Mr. Joe’s Barn,

Stoop to
throw a rock at snakes that could do me some harm,

Count the
circles the hawk made as she searched for mice,

Wondered if
the crawdads would still be nice,

Listen to
the frogs croak at the edges of the pond,

Take one
last look and wave my magic wand,

“Stay there,” I would call, “I’ll don’t want to be thinner,”

And off I’d
race to get part of dinner,

Mom would be
exasperated, “What kept you?”

I’d hang my
head, “I had things to do,”

Then when I
finished my chores,

I asked if I
could go outdoors,

For the sun
was hanging at earth’s very edge,

Splashing red
and gold on trees and hedge,

And then as
it slipped away from the day,

Darkness
descended so animals could play,

Scissortails
and bats flew around with flair,

Snatching mosquitoes
and insects out of the air,

Nocturnal shapes
and all kinds of beasts,

Appeared
from the shadows ready to feast,

Dinner for
them was life or death,

The
quickest, the strongest, the ones out of breath,

Huffing and
puffing or slipping around,

They
measured their foes by fang or by sound,

I watched
and waited for a deadly dance,

Marveled in
nature’s way of living by chance,

Then with
starlight to guide me homeward I sped,

Where I
could sleep soundly in my own safe bed.

 

 

 

 

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