Our Walk. Poem by Ray Sinclair

Wild flowers, yellow, blue and white,
redwoods, Samson and Delilah, stand proud in height.
Rain flutters down through a sunlit sky,
Susie the spaniel runs near by.

Birds fly past busy making a nest,
we sit on a bench and in stillness rest.
Eyes we close and the breeze we feel,
this present moment is where time is real.

In the forest we walk, your hand in mine,
connection is felt, all feels just fine.
We stroll the bank by a gentle stream,
as if this reality is our dream.


Written by Ray Sinclair on 24/03/14
© 2014 Ray Sinclair