echoes of the prosper road

[fledgist]

 the nightly croaking from the pond

recalls another time and place

the sounds do not quite correspond

but have an equal sort of grace

 

what's winter here has turned so mild

that we can see the forceful green

reminder of the nearby wild

just inches past the window screen

 

those arguments that we have made

regarding mother nature's pain

seem all at once a sad charade

as weeds spring up after the rain

 

what we have learnt is very clear

about the cycles in their course

of tropic or of temperate year

they have the same gigantic force

 

the frogs that croak in pond or tree

ignoring us proclaiming life

for their short passage do live free

and teach us something about strife