Green Path


Visit the hidden places,
hear the river speak rapids,
follow paths winding into wilds.
Find bear tracks, see fish glint,
and listen for moose.
Live in harmony.
Pitch your voice’s timbre
to meld with wind,
soughing in pines,
distant thunder’s grumbles and
crows, complaining blackly.
Hear sparrows gossip.
Match your silence to
the joy of sunshine
on all growing things.
Follow the green path,
and your voice,
unheard in the wilds,
will be thick with thoughts,
sprouting like mushrooms
in the dark, fertile places.

Mushroom abloom

Copyright 2015 Brenda Davis Harsham

Garden Green

The kiss of the sun for pardon,
the song of the birds for mirth,
one is nearer God’s Heart in a garden
than anywhere else on earth.

Dorothy Frances Gurney


Far up a hill in Edinburgh City are acres of garden.
I headed up one sunshiny day
escaping the din of castles, pubs and tourists.
Tranquility was far from me,
my mind too busy, too full of deadlines.

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