Where The Cedars Are Poem by Michael Walker

Where the cedars are, you will find me,
Reclined against a sturdy, ancient trunk,
For only in nature can we feel free
To wait and pray all day like a kind monk.

Amidst the eucalyptus, I will walk,
Breathing deeply their salubrious scent,
For in the woods, one has no need to talk,
For no one wonders wither we have went.

Beneath the trees, the sun my only friend,
I wander over flowers, moss, and leaves,
As I through the mountain valley wend,
Along the stream, as she to the sea weaves.

Everybody seeks serenity,
Yet everybody wants amenity.