Excursions

Excursions

I cannot walk the ancient paths
To smell the mulching tracks
Or hover high, on thermals fly,
Above the tamaracks.
Transfixed by needles evergreen
Where seed filled cones are dropped
A witness to the cycles
That nature's never stopped.

I cannot sail the seven seas
Nor plunge into their depths
To find the unmarked channels
Where currents intercept.
To hear the whales sing secret songs
Or treasure hunt the wrecks
Or see the ghosts that swim about
Their water soaking decks.

I cannot travel to the stars
Nor venture out beyond
To navigate the "holes of black"
Celestial vagabond.
Observing comets fling their tails
And race across the sky
While new stars form, and worlds explode,
And gases liquefy.

But, I can walk down memory's lane
And swim in love's great sea
And taking flight on wings of prayer
Is commonplace for me
And all those things I cannot do
Give me inspiration
To book a seat on frequent flights
Of imagination.


Lee Powell Scott
©2006 Watermark Press