Rest awhile by a babbling brook and let breezes caress your hair
But wait, the babbling brook is no longer, the remaining breezes
Are now a wind storm caused by trucks thrashing along the highway
Where there used to be a babbling brook
So seeking a place to contemplate, peaceful, tranquil
The highway is left to its stressful self and move to a field
To rest awhile, hear the crickets with their rhythmic chirping
The sun encouraging an orchestra of the sounds of nature
Alas, the sounds of nature are now the rumble and click clack
of the wheels of supermarket trolleys, carting the spoils to the car park
which has now replaced the field
The crickets now sing their song in another place
Perhaps further afield, in a nature reserve
Organised by human hand,
To show that there are still places where you can rest awhile
Sitting on a bench, painted with polka dots and stripes in hues of pink, blue and green
nearby sounds of children, their cacophony of screams and shouts
in a playground of squeaks and clanks of swings and a see-saw
Let me rest awhile, where? in this world of tumult and modern times
In a quiet corner of an eternal resting place, I may rest awhile
And find some peace on earth
Thought I would add the top picture is Zürich just before last Christmas in the rush hour. The botoom picture is Woodgrange Cemetary in London. Now not so much used, but most of my mother's ancestors were buried there.
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