Grasswalker
Bowed not only from his eighty some years
but with the care of other's burdens and tears,
In a lush fertile garden he leans upon his hoe...
Proudly surveying the land left by his
fathers long ago...
Tilled and sown, row by row..
He watches as they slowly grow
A garden carefully tened for neighbors and me
and all he cares for and thinks of as family...
With thought of neigther time nor rest
by his care worn hands he gathers in the harvest
delightful, succulent vegetables from stalk,
root, and vine
grown in the warmth and glow of summertime...
Spirit strong but body aged and weak
He's tired and hot as shade he seeks
He is a proud and honest man
His heart holds great respect for the land...
The Mountains watch over him day and night
Guarding like sentinels of might
His spirit walks through the grass with ease
Dreams of his youth revisited on a soft breeze...
The cool softness of the grass
brings memories of the past.
He knows his life is fleeting fast
But he knows his spirit over this land will last...
He returns home to his wife of many years
They've known much toil and tears
But they too have known great happiness and love
Blessed by the Creator from above...
When it is time for this Grasswalker to die
His is a heart that will not question why.
For his spirit will forever be
Living over this land free...
Barbara LaBarbera 2003
used with permission
ThunderWolfLA@aol.com
Used with permission
Thank you for walking this path with me!
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Page made by Joni
7-12-2011
