Pensive Poem by Diana van den Berg

A smile almost whispered
across her October face
washing it with morning light.

Nobody knew
nor would they have understood,
nor could they,
nobody, except her animals
and everyone else’s
and those running free.

The trees mingled with her thoughts
teasing them in soft greens
and browns
and greys,
swirling them
in kaleidoscope patterns
that danced sacred memories in the breeze.

She slow-breathed the fluff-ball acacia air
permeated with dreams
and lifted her face to the sky
to be kissed by the sun,
like a waking daisy
basking in gratitude
and happiness
and the deep, deep secrets
of the rich, brown earth.

She was
of her beloved earth
since
time began.
She was one of its special secrets
as it was hers.