By Gene Smith
There are times, grateful times,
I have asked in my head,
Not searching, not spying, looking inward instead.
And I wonder how is it and what made us know
to have chosen this place and now cherish it so.
Is it that mount there above standing by?
Might it be sunsets that paint up our sky
With those confident birds flying home to their nests,
or poppies rich orange in their spring season bests?
Could it be smiling at friends all around,
or other such tender scenes here that we’ve found,
the mallards their mates on the mid campus pond?
Riparian woodlands? The hills out beyond?
Or planting some flowers and seeing them grow,
as reminders in life we may reap if we sow;
then pause having feelings so thankful for now,
with hopes it continues along a long while.
Sleeping safely and soundly here in our abode,
Gentle thoughts of the times
we have known down our road.
All this yet much more are our blessings these years
As we smile at our pleasures and manage our fears.