In light of times when all is silent,
in waking moments of contentment,
in spite of pockets full or empty,
in light of thinking all that could be,
in times of hurry in times of hush,
in moments when I don't think much,
in light of lack of inspiration
and despite less contemplation,
I take a chance and dare to spin,
the ink that spills from rhyming's pen,
into a cup to satisfy,
the waking thirst that does abide,
in place of mind where can't be seen,
the thoughts that decorate the scenes,
of where my mind roams to and fro,
when looking for a place to go,
to enhance its point of view,
with something old and something new,
that blends to make a starting place,
where can be grown a living space,
that welcomes mind and wit to climb,
a mountain path and flora find,
blooming, growing all around,
accompanied by nature sounds,
of bird and bug of squirrel and deer,
in rustling leaves both far and near,
where wind does reach to softly play,
among the different times of day,
in morning light, in sunset scenes,
with dew drop’s kiss to night time-themes,
where spiders weave a web of lace,
to make itself a little place,
to bide its time a meal to make,
a place to rest and not forsake,
its own reward for time well spent,
as the days and nights all went,
without a word of acknowledgement,
recognizing its own accomplishment,
as a caterpillar weaved,
its cocoon in nearby tree,
where nest of bird held safe its young,
in tender shells soon to become,
another feather in the hat,
of its cousin the sleeping bat,
hunter of a surplus of,
mosquito wings and soft shelled bugs,
while tender powder wings of moths,
dust the shrubs and earthen moss,
covering both rock and tree
where butterflies and honey bees,
rest while searching for their nectar,
among the flowers, their protectors,
with tender petal fortress stems,
that turtles munch for nourishment,
then move on along the paths,
to clover clumps and long string grass,
where ants and centipedes pass days,
playing in the growing maze,
of all that nature has provided,
while people sit near warm bright firesides,
staring at the dancing flames
to watch the magic on display,
telling stories, singing songs,
wanting where their love belongs,
where it grows and welcomes in,
the goodness of a faithful friend,
to make a new day to remember,
the worth it found among the splendor,
in light of times when all is silent,
in waking moments of contentment,
in spite of pockets full or empty,
in light of thinking all that could be.