In earlier times,

What I saw,

I readily believed. …

I stood beneath the tree,

Waiting for the blooms,

To gently fall. …

When simply written,

With instructive pictures,

And clear directions, …

Thought swimming,

In a crowded mind,

Where myself, …

What awaits there,

At the end of the road,

Was once a dark unknown. …

What the eyes see,

I no longer naively believe.

They are often but masks, …

Gracefully,

She sat on the grass,

Staring at me, …

Tears cleanse.

Or so they say.

Yet I hate to cry, …

I often compared,

My dreams and hopes,

With those around, …

In the land,

Where I grew up,

A horse or a donkey, …

Today I’d like to be,

A bright shining lamp,

Lighting the way, …

We all have burdens,

To carry through life.

The times I’ve helped others, …

There is a rooster,

That lives by our house.

I often listen to him sing, …

Perhaps nature has more to teach,

Than I have often believed.

Had I in earlier times, …

Traditions,

Help remind me of days,

When I was seeking, …

It is the lifeless and lost,

Who trouble my thoughts.

Not from sympathy, …

Around Easter,

The trees in our neighborhood,

Begin to turn green. …

Some things,

I cannot understand.

In earlier times, …

Perhaps nature,

With its simplicity,

Kindness and a smile, …

Those caring souls,

Painting the signs,

Guiding my path, …