Middleton Wold Poem by Brian P FitzGerald

The morning wakes: the sun’s misty rays
Touch yonder crest
Of Middleton Wold above the hazy vale
T’wards the distant west.

Snared by a gentle breeze, the gossamer filaments
Of early morning mist,
The wraiths of night, now quit the ling’ring shade,
And chalky slopes gently kiss.

Fleecy clouds, whose shadows pitch and toss
Across the wave-like hills;
Cruise the rolling seas of earthly life,
‘Till over the summit spill.

Above the copse of beech where now I stand
Red kites soar and glide.
A timeless scene: so humble, so small I feel;
Such rural vistas wide!

Wither now, with passing years I wonder -
Vistas wider still?
I pause and breathe the air so clean and fresh,
And hear a woodpecker drill.

Are transient shadows that briefly cross the hills,
And birds that soar on high,
But elusive fleeting moments in the passage of time?
- no more than a passing sigh?

Are we but tiny specks in time and space?
Within an ageless infinity?
What other worlds await the other side?
In sublime and blessed serenity?

The sun is high: I’ve far to go, my journey’s long,
Across the distant hills
Of Middleton Wold, above the hazy vale,
Which Heaven’s rich suffusion fills.