A Meadow’s Sanctuary
© 2010 (Jim Sularz)
A morning Meadow - tall, red-yellow speckled,
now, humbled low by the wind.
Conifer Sundials – mirrored shadows,
slowly stretching, dancing, and then diminishing -
along blurred edges of a lush, flowing Sea.
Feathered, high flying Eagles soar, circling small and wide,
against a blue, white pillowed sky.
… a Crow caws.
Nuzzled Prairie Dogs, with tethered tails, scamper for cover,
for danger spirals, just above.
Harvester Ants marching in tiny zigzagged columns,
tunnel an ever deepened Colony –
twisting around canvassed rocks and roots.
Lightning fast Dragonflies – thin tinsel winged airships,
darting, spinning, some kissing.
And white petite wild-flowers,
bobbing from Honey Bees, stand quivering.
Multi-colored Butterflies flutter, undecided,
and brown-helmeted Grasshoppers oddly peer -
like Praying Mantises, eager to leap.
Chirping Sparrows, with cocked tails,
sand-bath in a warm, thirsty, summer Sun.
And Cat-tails, bursting,
pierce through a sparsely wooded Island.
A distant thunder-clap,
and crawling, flat, anvil-headed Clouds –
slide down majestic, snow-capped mountaintops,
marking the hour, like clockwork, this time of year.
Dusk comes, bathed in a warm, orange-amber hue,
waxing and waning with a melting Sun.
A Red Fox stirs, finding at twilight’s gate,
fresh promising scents, for Her young.
And black masked Raccoons steal away,
through soft, cool moonlit grasses –
in a hushed, clown-like parade...
As I dwell in this Sanctuary of place and spirit,
beneath an infinite, star-painted canopy.
I know with certainty - of mind, heart and soul,
that when God’s rainbow palette had hardened and dried -
All were - Forever One.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem