by Mark Hart

Created on: September 17, 2009   Last Updated: September 18, 2009

As I tread
Upon wet leaves
Strewn freely 'bout
The forest trail

It seems as if
I've left behind
The human world
And its travail

A cool mist
Against my cheek
Fresh scents
Upon the air

The spongy earth
Beneath my feet
All ease away
My cares

Breathing deep
The woodsy smell
I step carefully
Through the brush

With only drips
And muffled steps
To punctuate
The hush

Across a meadow
Inside the trees

A whitetail browses
Furtively

A spotted fawn
Beneath her mass
Paws playfully
A clump of grass

Her scanning eyes
And darting ears
Betray a caution
Imprinted from years

She flicks her tail
Then sniffs the air
The fawn looks up
Alert, aware

She follows the breeze
Back to my spot
And though I freeze
My scent is hot

Up goes her tail
She turns, then dashes
And vanishes into
The dogwoods and ashes

Contentedly
I resumed my trek
Amused at my fortune
What serendipity!

To have chanced upon
A rainy scene so serene
A doe and her fawn
'Midst a forest so green!

Pausing to reflect
On the pleasures
Of Nature I'd tasted
I thanked god

For its beauty
Though oft' hidden
Is never wasted
But is it not odd?

I sobered at the irony
Of how I had failed to see
The log in my own eye
Oh, Blind, moral preachers!

That my approach
Should generate
Such fear and fright
In those timid creatures!

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