Would eyes that see, but look,
Around the curve that feeds the stream,
Wherefrom the spring it brook,
A tear, a broken seam,
Where mountain tall and bold,
A reservoir of solid cast,
Such treasured liquid hold,
Of heavens tears so vast,
Tears of common man and angels which,
Freely fall without restraint,
Again forever we enrich,
When dust of sin, our souls had taint,
Though strong and bold a mountain man,
As all men bold their egos tell,
Forgets most common natures plan,
And builds himself a path to hell,
Monuments of eons old,
Mountains too that nature carved,
Soon enough in time will fold,
Washed away of tears then starved,
Yet that pool with love enriched,
Happiness leaves in its path,
For the moment life bewitched,
The biggest treasure man he has,©08/07/2012
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Regis
a powerful write.
Budd
Ron