Cross the Stream

To Marcy Howard

I sit beside a flowing stream,
Open fields on the other side,
Ice encroaching over the water,
But flowing, it can not hide,
Though its cold, it still is bright,
And light reflects with the color gold,
Two deer pause to take a drink,
Seeming to ask which way to go.
Though they speak not a word,
The buck watches as his doe crosses the stream,
But even with no spoken word,
Still they are a team,
They wander off into the forest
Only tracks now mark their way,
Their spirit seems to linger here,
On this cold, bright sunny day.
At times we may not see them,
Yet still we know they’re  there,
And as we ponder the things unseen,
What happens to how we care,
If you sit and ponder it
Nature has its way,
To show us things we overlook,
Each and every day.
Are lives are like this nature scene,
Though loves hidden, its surely there,
Though we do not hold each other,
That love holds on to us somewhere,
We’ll always have each other,
Though as trees, life blocks our sight,
And as we cross lifes steady stream,
We’re together in our dreams each night.
.        YOU!



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