A Sunny Springtime Morning On A Busy Thoroughfare.
As I Jog Down The Street, City Sounds Are Everywhere.
So Many Speeding Cars All Bound For Different Places.
Are The Drivers Even Human, For I Cannot See Their Faces?
A Crowded City Bus Belches Out Black And Filthy Smoke.
The Life Of Urban Dwellers Is A Terribly Troublesome Yoke.
It Seems That Gone Forever Is Nature-‘s Sweet Intrusion,
Into This Land Of Concrete Buildings, A Maze Of My Confusion.
Then Comes A Magic Moment As The Loudness Seems To Cease.
No More Pass The Noisy Cars, A Moment Of Quiet Peace.
Into This Hushed And Gentle Moment Of Tranquility Surreal
Comes The Singing Of The Birds, Their Symphony To Reveal.
Astounded I Think -ŗhow Wonderful- Is Their Melody & Song.
Drowned Out By City Loudness, It-‘s Been There All Along.
The Moment-‘s Magic Passes, It Was There So Very Brief.
The Clamor Of The City, Steals The Song Just Like A Thief.
As I Continue My Jog Down This Traffic Congested Drive,
Sadly I Know That I Never Enjoyed The Purity Of Being Alive.
I Think In This Instant, Where The Trees Won-‘t Even Grow,
Why Do I Not In The Evening, Bask In The Firefly-‘s Glow?
I Try To Spot The Canopy Of Stars In The Sky At Night.
Sadly They-‘re All Gone, Stolen Away By The City-‘s Light.
I Cannot Hear The Cricket-‘s Soothing Song In Early Eve.
This Place Of Polluted Living, So Seldom A Reprieve.
I Cannot Find A Rabbit Living In His Warren In A Croft.
I Cannot Hear The Wise Old Owl Hoot And Fly Aloft.
I Cannot See The Wild Flowers Beautifully Arrayed,
Exploding With Vibrant Color, As They Decorate A Glade.
I Cannot Spy A Baby Fawn, Grazing Carefree In A Glen.
Not A Solitary Trace Of How Life Was Way Back When.
I Do Not See A Majestic Stallion, Running Playful In A Dell.
Nor Waterfalls Or Hidden Caves, With Mysteries To Tell.
There Is No Cow Nor Mule Or Dog, Resting In A Byre.
I Cannot Find A Forest Green, Or Nothing To Inspire.
Where Are The Frogs & Little Ducks Swimming In A Pond?
Why Do I For These Absent Things, Feel A Powerful Bond?
I Cannot Walk With Naked Feet, In A Flowing Brook.
I Cannot Find A Meadow Fair No Matter How I Look.
But What Saddens Me The Most, I Cannot Hear The Birds.
It Is That Which Pierces My Heart & Inspires My Cheerless Words.
by frost1_2000‚Â