Meeting

Meeting

I hear the birds 

they chirp~

Behind a cloud the 

Sun does lurk.

I feel the cool wet grass, 

springy beneath 

my feet, earthy scents 

thereon released. The 

windmill does a slow

turn, of creaks and groans

as 'round it goes

the wind softly, so coldly

blows. The air

is chill upon my

face, just here

in this place.

I saw the Pheasant

fly, does it 

know why? For 

not do I this answer

know, of the 

reason we all

must go.

Faith leads us,

trust completes 

thus. Another

footstep heeds

the path laid 

out in store. This

is the knowing,

assuredly the 

ever more.