grasmere journal II

Grasmere Journal II
by azly rahman

O ' Nature
my heart leaps in joy at the sight of you
walking in the woods
each morning
as i traversed the path you once inspired
the minds great poets of Nature
of Keats
of Shelley
of Byron
of Wordsworth
of who I shall all owe my deep reverie to
O' Nature
thouest hath made each cell in me alive
with the love of things great and small
of the quaintness of the cottages of oxfordshire
of the glory of the tombs in the great castles of yesteryears
of a solitary walk in the woods so deep
so crisp the air of a summer not yet there
of the rain that fall upon us all day
of an evening of a solitary walk under the faint light of a lonely street so quiet yet tender
of which poetry of yesteryears hums and whispers the story of love
fresh as the morning dew
as ancient as the land of sir lancelot
and the moors of the wuthering heights
Who art thou Nature?
that hath become in me
as gentle as the wind
like velvet
touches me
O' Nature
like poetry you have come again
verses in an abbey of a thousand years there it stood still
where monks
like prophets of the poor reside
chanting the songs of hope of a bettter tomorrow
O' Nature you have come in me again
or have you always been me?