Feed The Soul
Man, what does he seek; he searches yet he sees not. Be it wealth that he would dig, till his hands bleed. What does he search for; the gold that comes from the ground. Or be it his true wealth unseen. To listen to the wind with words unspoken, yet the understanding is there. Be this place that which no man has laid his touch. Oh see you not the red tail hawk flying, nor the great bear standing. Cry out the joy of air unseen and the smell of fresh water without man’s poison. The small fire burning, with the day’s catch cooking, can your mind not see the peace that comes with the silence, uncorrupted. To live with the land and to destroy nothing; this be the gold that feeds the soul.
Inspired by Janet
© 2010 Words the Windows to the Soul