Pickering Pond

just one way out…

.
.

There are no roads to Pickering pond,
nor beaten paths to travel on,
just one way in
just one way out…

Cattails ring
around its shore,
the moon is echoed
evermore.
So still the waters,
mirrored trees
dance upon
its waters
free.

The years and tears
of Mother Earth
have shaped
this place
to give it birth.
The rain has whittled
stone and sand
with artist eye,
with artist hand.

So many days
I’ve sat so long
to listen to the bullfrogs song.
I’ve watched the deer,
the rabbit, swan,
drink deep of Her
then travel on.

The raccoon and the wild grape
will climb the trees,
all while you wait.
The catfish swim
as in a trance,
ripples skip
as skimmers dance.

There are no roads to Pickering pond
nor beaten paths to travel on.
Just close your eyes,
you will see,
everything it’s meant to be.

just one way in
just one way out…