Poised to invade that covert glade
green sanctuary of warm shade
solitary place of cheerful noise
chirping birds, rustling leaves
patter of little feet giggling, secure
in parental embrace, sacred grove
of memories sweet. Poised to let go
my ego, dealing in the streets
to leave allure, systems invented
by man to avoid, as they flee
the inevitable void, seemingly secure
in mammon, honors and accumulation
of rust and moths, relying on decaying flesh.
Poised to climb, at dusk, my last mountain
to sit alone in silence at the edge, embraced
by heaven, releasing my soul to the just
starry night, faith calming my fear and trembling.
c) Jan G. Otterstrom F.
October 3, 2010
Over Costa Rica