Scribbled Thoughts

Fallen leaves

merged with the dirt

wet from the nearby stream

it constantly

squishes them deeper,

joining the stones

to form the foundations

of the earth.

Shock of the stepping stones,

no solid path to follow.

Stumble in the water

to reach your goal

or give up

and only view from

a distance,

to forever wonder

what it is

others saw.

Tie a ribbon of memory

in a glen hidden,

it will preserve

all I have of you.

It will make you

live again.

I am the guardian of the Glen

(of five minutes)

all who wish to pass

must pay with strokes

and head rubs.

Yes, yes like that

(pant, pant).

Okay, next.

Hidden Glen

nestled in the forest

embraced in protection

so nature can reign,

but humans can visit

and respect

the peace

and complete

state of being

finding this land brings.

A tree trunk seat

pierced with pennies,

so old they’ve begun

to meld into the wood.

Because no one

carries cash anymore

and so the throne

will remain

incomplete.

Leaf corpse already gone

enters the current

of a life-giving stream,

its body pulled on a journey

from the waterfall

to the sea.

It follows the force

and by-passes rocks,

floating along to a new

resting place

it could never

imagine in life.

The shock of icy cold

water touching your fragile

everything

reminds you nature

is not your friend,

it does not know you,

accommodate you,

it just is,

and you need to adjust

or get out of the way.

Bottle up this feeling of serenity

and let your soul be revived

to unearth your stories,

your truths

your everything

that needs to be remembered,

that others need to know.