The Valley

the morning breaks across the hill
bathing the valley new
the grasses sparkle wildly
as sun caresses the dew

the smells of nature ring clear and sweet
floating along the mist
the smell of flower and of trees
with a little decay mixed.

life often springs from ashes
or the remains of other life.
a sprout rises brave and true
parting soil like a knife.

a rabbit hops among the grass
appearing quite aloof
but ever casting a wary eye
for the fox or for the wolf

I sit within the valley still
over some with joy and pride
I help to nourish the grass, the trees
like others who have died.

do not weep, do not be sad
that I no longer live on the lane
my essence, my love is crystal clear
a single drop of rain


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