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Posts Tagged ‘Smoky Mountain National Park’

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In trees I walked at Smoky’s feet,
And calm the forest floor.
‘Twas late October and the leaves
All Autumn’s colors wore.

It rained a bit the night before,
And though the earth was damp,
My shoes did not pick up the mud
While on my silent tramp.

The fallen leaves well-paved my path;
They made a yellow way
That Dorothy’d been proud to walk
In Oz in her brief stay.

The leaf-laid carpet and that trail
‘Twas all my eyes could see,
The forest closed out all the world
And I was cloistered, free.

There was a great serenity
With Nature as I walked.
I listened as my soft steps fell,
And as the forest talked.

I passed a stream; it gurgled peace,
Caught drops of last night’s rain –
A few that fin’lly fell – but why?
(The reason not yet plain.)

I saw another mystery;
It struck me as most odd.
A leaf, then two, came floating down
As slow as turtles plod.

I saw then, out among the trees,
One here, another there.
First glance, they seemed like butterflies
With wings in disrepair.

They did not scurry, did not slant;
Their vertical was straight,
As if they were a dropping stone –
And yet they had no weight.

I took the line of their descent;
Gazed upward where the trees
All disappeared from sight by height –
And then I saw the breeze!

And then I knew why raindrops fell
When there was no more mist,
And why the leaves were shaken loose
But fell without a twist.

How isolated I felt then!
The world was not about.
And now I knew that Nature, too,
E’en Nature had shut out.

Like spiders coming down a strand,
The leaves did downward crawl.
And watching their descent I knew
Why men call Autumn, Fall.

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The photo is mine and was taken in Smoky Mt. National Park.

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© Dennis Lange and thebardonthehill.wordpress.com, 2016.

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