I Sat on the Bench
It was covered with pretty leaves
Staying there at the whims of wind
Attuned to weather, soaking sun
They beckoned me, come sit with us
Only a few I pushed aside
Never wanting to spoil their day
This day would be their very last
Hell's angels want them for the fire
End's their destiny, fire or broom
Broom takes them to Heaven, on earth
Earthen pile of rotting debris
Now life ends like that, dirt to dirt
Choose for our souls, these leaves cannot
Here on the bench I meditate
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Poem Copyright © 2015 Jimmiehov. All Rights Reserved
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I am linked today with Real Toads, Artistic Interpretations with Margaret - Washington D.C.where Margaret posted some beautiful Washington, D.C. pictures from her recent visit there.The one I chose for inspiration was of her bench, posted at the link above.
My own bench pictures, 2009, 2013, 2014
A lot of thinking, meditating and watching goes on at that bench. I'm hoping for a broom.
ReplyDeleteBut there at the bench we can rest and contemplate how it returns to soil...
ReplyDeletelove that meditation...
ReplyDeleteA great poem.
ReplyDeleteIf we would only think how our actions effect the entire picture, we would no animals in cages and all living things, present or past would be greatly respected.
Now life ends like that, dirt to dirt
ReplyDeleteChoose for our souls, these leaves cannot
The same can be said for some less fortunate's who are destined for the garbage
heap. Not that they like it, but they are a deprived lot who can't get out of poverty
Hank
Fire was how my leaf piles of childhood met their fate ... After we spent half a day jumping into them :)
ReplyDeleteThis thought, "This day would be their very last" often occurs to me too, Jim. Great write!
ReplyDelete