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Timothy R Yeager

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Member Since: Mar, 2010

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The Arrowhead
by Timothy R Yeager
Friday, March 19, 2010
Not rated by the Author.
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Recent poems by Timothy R Yeager
•  My Own Prison
•  Contradicting Keats
•  Cry of the Forgotten
•  Paper Cell
•  Sophia's Evil Twin
           >> View all 32

It was a fair and mellow morning; crisp, cool and calm,
On a tranquilizing trek, through an ocher autumn wood.
For soothing life's afflictions you will find no better balm,
Than nature's gentle nurturing, so simply understood.

Beneath the fallen, lifeless leaves; the littered forest floor,
A sullied glitter caught my sight and sought my solaced mind.
I curiously followed it for treasures I adore,
Infinitely cherishing the few I ever find.

The tarnished sparkle that had cast its gleam into my eye,
That captivated all my thought and brimmed my burning brain,
Was an ancient arrowhead, from the centuries gone by,
With still the victim's mark, a besmirched and bloody stain.

Nature knows no way to lie, it judges not our crimes.
It doesn't praise or punish us for morals we've not met.
The strongest and the smartest will survive the worst of times.
Arrowheads await the weak and nature's quota to be set.

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