 |
| (Captured in my mother's garden): Nature’s first green is gold,
Her hardest hue to hold.
Her early leaf’s a flower;
But only so an hour.
Then leaf subsides to leaf.
So Eden sank to grief,
So dawn goes down to day.
Nothing gold can stay.
- Robert Frost |
'Tis nothing but to see ants rise
and fall,
Meet and talk and run amok,
To sit in the shade and watch a
day
In the life of a roadside rock.
To hear the green beetles with
the
Pretty red specks pulsate and
say:
Watch if you will; there’s work
to be done
Till the end of this nice long
day.
To watch a strange bird look
about
And wonder what it thinks,
Of the shallow rain and the
little grains
And muddy puddles for drinks.
And eagerly welcome the wind as
though
It has brought your mail,
For the mailman may or may not
arrive
But the wind will never fail.
To see birth, death, the hunter
and
Hunted, ceaselessly persist,
And wasps that feed off yellow
leaves
That sunshine once had kissed.
'Tis nothing but at end of day to
smell
Like rain soaked dirt,
'Tis what happiness must be,
'tis the
Fluttering
in your heart.
Copyright Delilah Das