Nature My Ever Present Companion
by Don Scroggins
Light reflecting on the crisp snow;
its blue hue a taste of the clear sky above.
The full moon in all her glory,
keeping darkness to the periphery.
Shadows and light through the forest,
Like dancers in a crowded ballroom,
drifting with each flicker of my lantern.
The wind at my back pushes me along
through the deep snow.
Forward it seems to say; as if chasing dawn.
I come into a clearing
and beyond lies the village common.
Deserted this time of year
for the warm hearth.
Ambling along I see lights
in the windows of some of the houses,
and laughter.
Only darkness and silence in others.
As I continue onward this chilly eve
I ponder.
Is the spirit of community still alive?
If I rang the bell at one of these homes
would they welcome this stranger in
to warm by the fire? Or would I be
turned away, another outsider
to fear?
Is compassion only alive
In the memory of yesterday?
And so I continue along the road,
nature my ever present companion.
its blue hue a taste of the clear sky above.
The full moon in all her glory,
keeping darkness to the periphery.
Shadows and light through the forest,
Like dancers in a crowded ballroom,
drifting with each flicker of my lantern.
The wind at my back pushes me along
through the deep snow.
Forward it seems to say; as if chasing dawn.
I come into a clearing
and beyond lies the village common.
Deserted this time of year
for the warm hearth.
Ambling along I see lights
in the windows of some of the houses,
and laughter.
Only darkness and silence in others.
As I continue onward this chilly eve
I ponder.
Is the spirit of community still alive?
If I rang the bell at one of these homes
would they welcome this stranger in
to warm by the fire? Or would I be
turned away, another outsider
to fear?
Is compassion only alive
In the memory of yesterday?
And so I continue along the road,
nature my ever present companion.
