The children hoot and shout. They are wild and free.

Hair is brushed by the wind, and teeth by the stream.

Time is kept by the sun, and direction by boulders and fallen trees.

Laughs and giggles fill the meadows and valleys, because in the wild they feel infinite. 

Frosty mountain air feels like an icy current as it flows through their lungs, but they breath it in strong because it is cool and crisp.

Soon their parent’s calls can be heard echoing through the hills, and the children saunter back with grumbles and sighs.

Now they must leave the mountains and the trees, still remaining wild, but never truly free. 

Apr 19
Mother Earth

She is sad, but they can’t make her smile.

She is sad, but it has been for awhile.

She is crying, but they could never tell.

She is crying, but they said oh well. 

She is dying, but they can’t see.

She is dying, but they just let it be. 

She is dead, and it brings such a shock.

She is dead, and now they start to talk.

Apr 19
A call unanswered

He has returned, my old friend. I always new he would, even till the end.

He follows me wherever I go. So much, that I don’t consider him a foe.

He has sent me down into a deep, dark pit. And though as I try to climb out I may slip, not once to I dare quit.

For it would mean sure death if I did, But they must remember, I am just a kid.

My old friend is still here, but I’m not scared.

I am content with knowing he will never go away, 

But red in the river brings fear everyday.

Apr 19
And Old Friend