Memories...

I am a gurl who remembers
the sound of the wind
whispering in the cat-tails.
The smell of the pond
mixes with the smell of the rain
as it gathers in the breeze.
The light changing
as clouds rush in.
The song birds sing
as they clutch their tiny feet
Fast to the reeds.
I watch the leaves
of the willow
and the poplars quake.
Silver shimmer,
they turn their soft side
to the rising wind.
In the distance the sheets fall,
Rain racing across the land to this place.
The place of cat-tails
and the girl who watches
life unfolding.
She feels the strength
and gentleness,
of the wind,
of the rain
and of the land.