Streams of Memories

Just a feeble whisper of the wind in the serene air,

A faint hint that something enchanted was about.

Glimpsing at mountains standing strong and brave,

As winds blew leaves of auburn and gold,

Reminding us of our childhood, through their finicky races,

Of former seasons, we had nearly forgotten.

I came to the pond, stunned by its exquisiteness.

Lowered my old canoe into the still water,

Rudely disrupting the ripples that glided across the surface.

As I sat on the craft, the crisp air all around,

I began to unwind in a stream of harmony.

I looked at my reflection, floating unrestricted,

With sunlight radiating, heavenly defrosting my cold body,

Emitting seas of warmth both inside and out.

As water flows over the paddle’s edge,

I hear the whispers of contentment mixing with the faint cries of wildlife.

I feel the tranquil rush, watching the birds soar overhead.

The country so undisturbed, wild flowers blooming astray,

The serenity, acting as a blanket keeps me comforted, as I paddled back to shore.