Scenic Route
By Peter Scott
A botanical garden
Does not compare
Green hued buds
Bloomed
In season
Curving across the land
Sprawling to the eye
Its a magical place
Misty as fog or spray
Even when close
It is far away
The brook winds its way
Past that rock
The one you knew as a child
Still see in this 'scape
Truly is it a 'scape
Random birds humming
Tunes the hawks forgot
Occasionally fluttering to the branch
With a snake too cool
Or calm
To cause a shadow of a doubt
In anything bolder than the bird
Ought the doe come wandering?
Be silent young scene
A glimpse may come to the patient
Who sits on the rock
Hot from a searing sun
Round in an oblong way
Bridges pouring secretly
Caused by their absence
Follow those bridges
Heavenward to the sky
White clay globs
Shapeless as the substance
That shapes them
There you will find this glade
Many books cover it
Poems too
Somehow
It still lays hidden
Waiting for discovery
A shelterless soul
To call it home
Crack timber
Place boards over the soil
Nail a shield against God's tears
Set up a homestead
Across from mine
Where they will live
In this perfect grove
Among the imagination.
