Around the curve, danger? Delight?
Shadows fall on the tunneled pathway in no
particular pattern, visual confusion. Abstract art.
Blooming plants and worrisome weeds, side by side,
pushing and shoving for space and attention.
And then there’s the bench, a little bit rough
and splintery. Decorated by passing birds
perched on the back for a moment of rest,
home for delicate spider webs tucked
artistically in corners and crevices,
sparkling strands ignited by shafts of light,
the bench is an imperfect invitation for
less than perfect people who want to
meet a friend or eat the peanut butter
sandwich in the backpack or watch
bees dance on delicate red blooms
or gratefully remember or
think about the journey
that still waits or
simply rest.
The way is wild and wonderful.
Hello, life.
Have no idea what 1955 means or where it came from. The title is Hello, Life.
Just wonderful! Thanks. I know there is a fork in the path just beyond our sight.