A narrow trail
Only thing here touched by man
As if in another world
So quiet
Yet so loud
Birds, an orchestra
No song sheets, no notes
Unrehearsed
They are the instrument
They are the music
The sounds of the trees swaying
As the wind brushes their leaves
None planted by human hands
But by a greater power
In no particular order
No design, no plan
Imperfect beauty
Perfectly imperfect
My path ends at the water’s edge
A place where I will rest
For now
So beautiful this journey has been
How blissful this destination is
Honor our perfect imperfections
Cherish our journeys
Celebrate our destinations
by Joseph Fox
May 20, 2020
