Walking, taking in the view;
River, trees, grass, sky.
It pains only to see, hear, feel
The brightness of the sun,
The rush of water on stone,
The lift of wind against skin.

I want to eat the sky!
Smile it widely back to it's abode;
opalescent, holy blue.
Smokey white testament
released from the effort.

Swallow the river, returning
It's flow from a full heart.
The stones lining its banks
Sink from the dark, loveless, places
And suffer no more, caressed
By swollen waters.

Eyes shine the sun while
planted legs take root; shifting earth.
Trees, grass, spring unbidden;
each blade and branch shimmer
the patterned erotics of life.

And all of these, I am, until
the shiver of a black squirrel.
whirling in peppered grasses,
Delivers notice to the taut
enclosiveness of see, hear, feel.

Linda Lyng
Copyright ©2003 Linda Lyng

Walks