Poet's Corner from
the past week.
Past bit of poetry for the week of 9/6/06
Musings from the mind of a child
By, Puns McKenna
I awoke that morning to clouds and rain. It wasn't the torrential rains
of the desert, which I was used to, but a soft, gentle, misting. After
breakfast I went outside to play. The peace and quiet of the woods seemed
to beckon to me. Here there were odors I'd never smelled before. I recognized
the sweet scent of sage, but I also caught the spicy scent of mold, old
pine needles, leaves, and wet earth. With each new smell my curiosity
grew. I'd pick up a leaf, a twig, a handful of pine needles, a bit of
damp earth, and just to savor the aroma.
I saw colors there that I had only dreamed of. It was like the rain had
washed away all the dust so the true colors could shine through. There
were shades of green that were so bright even a crayon would match it.
There were reds and browns and grays that only seemed to intensify the
smells. There was a feeling of newness in the air that'd make you stop
just to enjoy it.
Even the dim light from the overcast sky seemed brighter. When the rain
had stopped the inhabitant's of the woods started coming out. There were
birds and quail, and even rabbits.
If I sat very still and didn't make a sound I could see the rabbits hopping
around, but if I made even the slightest noise the woods would go quiet
and still. As I explored my surroundings I let the beauty of nature completely
enfold me so that I felt completely at home in those rain swept woods.
The peace was so complete that time just slipped away. Soon I felt as
though I were in a world of my own.
The wood, was my own little kingdom and I was the gentle, loving queen.
My subjects were the rabbits, birds, and quail. I made them burrows and
nests, and imagined they could understand me when I spoke to them. The
world was mine to command, and I did. I wandered farther into the woods
to see what else I could find. In front of me was a large cluster of rocks.
They were covered with moss. There was red moss, green moss, gray moss,
and brown moss. The wet moss smelled musty and was soft almost springy
when touched. And the colors were so vibrant that they made the rocks
look like beautiful, wet jewels.
The rain soon began to fall again. I heard my mother calling me. Reluctantly
I turned and started back to the house. My misty, little kingdom with
all its little dwellers would have to await my return. As I slowly made
my way back to the house I watched the rain wash over the land, and remove
all traces of my being there. I was sad, but I remembered that when it
stopped raining I would be able to come back and play.