Nature Poetry
David Cowardin
Issue date: 2/10/10 Section: Outdoors
The force that sends a
man into the woods
must be the same force
that turns him to faith.
Once he enters
he may never return.
Once a solemn breeze
untangles itself from
great white pines and
brushes against his skin,
he may never forget.
An imprint can be covered,
transformed or mangled,
but it will always remain
in one form or another.
Nature labors for our benefit.
Toiling and stressing as we
slowly chip away at its beauty.
A small blade of grass
pushes it's way through
thick asphalt in a dark alleyway.
It's not supposed to be there
but it remains, an imprint
that can't be removed.
Like the one left on man
as he enters the woods.
man into the woods
must be the same force
that turns him to faith.
Once he enters
he may never return.
Once a solemn breeze
untangles itself from
great white pines and
brushes against his skin,
he may never forget.
An imprint can be covered,
transformed or mangled,
but it will always remain
in one form or another.
Nature labors for our benefit.
Toiling and stressing as we
slowly chip away at its beauty.
A small blade of grass
pushes it's way through
thick asphalt in a dark alleyway.
It's not supposed to be there
but it remains, an imprint
that can't be removed.
Like the one left on man
as he enters the woods.
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