WATERHOLE

Under whose microscope are we,
As we observe the amoeba?
How did it all come to be?
Life seems a case of amnesia.

A yell, a whistle, a shout, a scream,
Hanks of hair, pieces of bone.
Might have thought it was a dream,
But I see I am not alone.

Organisms, creatures so strange,
Living in a world of their own.
Reveling in a noise they exchange,
Or marveling over a stone.

Choruses of grunts and groans,
The phenomenon of sound.
Laughter, barking, sighs and moans,
The sounds of noise abound.

Standing in lines, standing alone,
Traveling across vast mud.
In an environment that has grown
Many an old blooming bud.

Infinities of varieties appear
Within each inch and mile.
In these bodies, stuck in here,
Stuck in time for awhile.

Boils and warts and who knows?
The list of words goes on.
Ankles and arms, feet and toes,
With space to live upon.

Oceanic birds and bumble bees,
In flight through space of air.
Men suck sap from humble trees,
All rare and beyond compare.

Within a species of prominence,
Applauding fellow cells in design.
Communicating a physical sense,
Existence beyond does resign.

Organisms from pole to pole,
Humans claim superiority.
Only animals at a waterhole,
When they sit down to tea.

MASTERPIECE

Can you see the colors of life,
As seen by myself and my wife,
As we sense it to be our duty,
To observe and admire the beauty?

Can you smell, and taste, and feel,
And see, and hear, this life so real?
Deeply sensing the art of it,
Knowing you are a part of it.

Can you plainly contemplate,
The art for which to appreciate,
Beyond this world of human woe,
As novice creations of humans grow?

Can you see the redwood tree,
The flowers and the shrubbery?
See the nearby clear blue sky,
Away, above the earth so high.

Can you feel the sun, so warm?
See the rain clouds, as they swarm.
Can you feel the rain, so wet?
See the rainbow at sunset.

Can you hear the rushing stream?
See the light of a bright sunbeam,
Shining into the grassy hill,
Seeming never to get its fill.

Can you taste the sweet brown honey?
See the fresh fruit, grown in plenty,
The apples and the ripened peach,
A flaming sun shines down to reach.

Can you smell the scent of flowers?
See the tall vast mountain towers,
Smell the scent of a sea breeze.
See the seagull it does please.

Can you hear the waves on shore?
See the mighty pelican soar.
Hear the ancient ocean roar,
As it feeds the clouds that pour.

Can you smell the evergreen?
See the clear blue sky serene.
Smell the orchid in the wind.
See the newborn life begin.

Can you feel the warmth of sand?
See the sunlight warm the land.
Feel the warmth of a lover’s hand.
See her smile, as to understand.

Can you taste the mountain springs?
Sense its soul, as a robin sings.
Taste the kiss of a loving friend.
Sense the love that does attend.

Can you see the nourished ground,
As the fertile rain comes down?
See it quench its patient thirst,
Thankful for the clouds that burst.

Can you hear the cool creek crawl,
Over the crooked canyon wall?
Hear the echoing canyon call,
As the water does tumble and fall.

Can you feel the faint wind blow,
As it passes, gentle and slow?
See the wild grass in the fields,
As to the wind, it gently yields.

Can you see this great gallery,
So priceless in its majesty?
Feel the joy of daily living.
Know the value it is giving.

Can you see this work of art,
A creation void of any start,
Forever changing and evolving,
As the earth keeps on revolving?

The seasons show new masterpieces,
As the great talent, forever increases;
The artist strives for form and color,
Painting each day as like no other.

To try and copy the original piece,
It would be a task, never to cease;
And so men pray, and work away,
The artless moments of each day.

Modern architecture of mankind,
Makes it difficult for us to find,
The wonders of creation to extol,
A cataract blindness of the soul.

Throughout the galleries of the universe,
We hope disaster could not be worse,
Than in the one where came the birth
Of the sorrowful critics upon the earth.

The feeble attempts of human minds,
Of temporal temples and neon signs,
Fall short of the gallery where can be found,
Works by the artist who’s been all around.

Men have worked and tried to succeed,
To create the art each soul does need;
But no man could ever near duplicate,
Such art as the Master can create.