Some things we know
Without learning them.
The beauty of snow,
Their peace to bestow,
The song of the bird,
The sweetest ever heard,
The trust of burning wood,
The warm fire understood.
The virtue of patience,
The thrill of fragrance,
Lessons never taught,
A desire never sought.
What we know we create,
Our own future we shape,
In dreams hopes are elves,
In the mind they sit on shelves.
We see the horizon;
We know what it means.
We feel life’s mystery;
We know what it seems.
The road runs ever forward,
And so does earthly time.
The clockwork of the world
Ticks its measured rhyme.
What do trembling leaves know,
But much more than they tell.
Does the budding flower know
That it casts an enchanting spell?
Does the arid desert know
That it harbors a sacred well?
Does the plodding snail know
It finds its home in a shell?
Enough to know I am happy.
On that note, I bid you farewell.
and such beautiful writing…
Diana…🍃
PS
It is so unfortunate that some feel that this new knowledge is wrong. But you and I know that knowledge is power and is the lighthouse to the truth. Your poem reflects that and a happy attitude that goes along with it.
Ron
A good poem!
Sandie