With Closed Eyes by Anna Jo
My feet scuttles along the forest route
over nature's imprints of the past
everything I see, colorfast
And only appreciating the sight,
Suddenly, I stop and close my eyes.
I hear the whistling of the branches,
of those grand oak trees;
I hear the delight of the starlings,
as they gather into flocks;
I hear the thump! of the hare's hops
And the rushing of the stream;
Everything I hear, with closed eyes.
I feel the briskness of the breeze;
The fleshy bark of trees
I touch the soft, moist moss,
a golden carpet on the floor
I feel the slowing down of animals
as they prepare for dreamland.
And bask in the warmth of the sun;
Each and every thing I feel, with closed eyes.
I smell the perfume of flowers,
Or the trampled, decaying leaves
I smell the sooty campfires hunters made,
And the aroma of apple pie
I smell the cool, nipping air
Everything I smell, with closed eyes.
I taste the crispy tang of apples
plus the tartness of fresh blackberries,
What about leftovers from Thanksgiving?
I taste the bittersweet licorice plant,
And the comforting air of silence
Everything I taste, with closed eyes
The exploration of nature's beauty
in sounds, smells, touch, and taste,
Without even looking!
over nature's imprints of the past
everything I see, colorfast
And only appreciating the sight,
Suddenly, I stop and close my eyes.
I hear the whistling of the branches,
of those grand oak trees;
I hear the delight of the starlings,
as they gather into flocks;
I hear the thump! of the hare's hops
And the rushing of the stream;
Everything I hear, with closed eyes.
I feel the briskness of the breeze;
The fleshy bark of trees
I touch the soft, moist moss,
a golden carpet on the floor
I feel the slowing down of animals
as they prepare for dreamland.
And bask in the warmth of the sun;
Each and every thing I feel, with closed eyes.
I smell the perfume of flowers,
Or the trampled, decaying leaves
I smell the sooty campfires hunters made,
And the aroma of apple pie
I smell the cool, nipping air
Everything I smell, with closed eyes.
I taste the crispy tang of apples
plus the tartness of fresh blackberries,
What about leftovers from Thanksgiving?
I taste the bittersweet licorice plant,
And the comforting air of silence
Everything I taste, with closed eyes
The exploration of nature's beauty
in sounds, smells, touch, and taste,
Without even looking!