War Poetry  

 The Healing

To read the words of reality,

To grasp the words of pain

To feel the words of futility
Is to acknowledge life again.

©Anthony W. Pahl
19 January 2003

Find Yourself

While drifting along a path, with the horizon to scan

A small bird sat watching this old man.

His hat was worn as well as his cloths, and not very clean

But his sprit was new and keen.

The bird watches as he takes his time

Drinking in nature, all of which was sublime.

Now the bird was of course unaware

This old man meant no harm and willing nature with him to share.

As the old man got closer to the bird sitting on a limb

The bird became interested in this old man fit and trim.

The old man would stop and smell the wild herbs

Observe the landscape and careful not to disturb.

Solemnly he continued past the bird

Only pausing long enough to speak as to the beauty as if he heard.

Not once did the bird feel threatened, nor feel the need for flight

As the old man continued out of site.

As the old man reached his home he remembered the bird that he had met,

He didnt know why, but he had a strange feeling of regret.

Then it came to him, as he went in out of the cold, and why should he pretend,

He had just visited nature and without knowing it made a friend.

Somewhere in the night a little bird must have thought the same about this old man,

For if we find nature a great work in Gods plan

We find also that we are all Gods creatures something that he left.

To find beauty in nature, we must first find yourself.

©David R. Alexander
January 21, 2003