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Soft, Glistening, Abode
October 2, 2009
I’ve been to a river,
In that wilderness
I never quite understood,
But somehow
I found a real feeling
To bound me to earth.
Soft
Ground touches my hand
Hand touches my ground
My dearest faithful land
Close to rushing waters
Clear as the glass
Of a staring out window
Glistening
White waters flow through
The veins of my land,
The safe haven of my soul,
The sanctity of my fortune
To find such a quantity
Of the potion of Life.
So entitled
Abode
© Kristin W., Clarington, PA
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