Saturday, November 25, 2006
Ramblin'
Ramblin'
Down at the end of Derek Road is a wilderness replete
with cactus, rocks and walking trails to challenge aging feet.
Exploring the unlikely site of an abandoned turquoise mine
without my handy walking stick could be a treacherous climb.
A forest of pinon and cedar, stands of hardy scrub oak and more
surround a sea of desert plants that cover the valley floor.
Off to the left of the well-worn trail I follow some horses' tracks
that lead to a Shell oil pipeline and a road that takes me back
to a fence and "private property" sign, a community with a gate
to keep unwanted guests away from that secluded estate.
Climbing up and down the rough terrain where few, perhaps, have trod,
I feel content and richly blessed, attuned to creator God.
Then signs of civilization appear, some plastic and broken glass,
beer cans and even a weathered shoe. I'm not alone, alas!
Maneuvering a rocky slope with my polished stick of wood,
what if I fall and break a leg? - a chance well understood.
Perhaps I would make a tasty meal (I wouldn't mind, I swear!)
for the neighborhood mountain lion or a hungry roving bear.
That seems more sensible to me than dying slow with cancer
or suffering Alzheimer's curse. There is no easy answer.
Thank God for a healthy body that for two pleasant hours can walk,
a mind that can still imagine, a voice that can sing and talk.
To use it all for his glory, to help other people in pain
is the whole of my ambition, contentment forever to gain.
Cora Gail Trent
www.cgtrent.com
cgtrent@att.net
Down at the end of Derek Road is a wilderness replete
with cactus, rocks and walking trails to challenge aging feet.
Exploring the unlikely site of an abandoned turquoise mine
without my handy walking stick could be a treacherous climb.
A forest of pinon and cedar, stands of hardy scrub oak and more
surround a sea of desert plants that cover the valley floor.
Off to the left of the well-worn trail I follow some horses' tracks
that lead to a Shell oil pipeline and a road that takes me back
to a fence and "private property" sign, a community with a gate
to keep unwanted guests away from that secluded estate.
Climbing up and down the rough terrain where few, perhaps, have trod,
I feel content and richly blessed, attuned to creator God.
Then signs of civilization appear, some plastic and broken glass,
beer cans and even a weathered shoe. I'm not alone, alas!
Maneuvering a rocky slope with my polished stick of wood,
what if I fall and break a leg? - a chance well understood.
Perhaps I would make a tasty meal (I wouldn't mind, I swear!)
for the neighborhood mountain lion or a hungry roving bear.
That seems more sensible to me than dying slow with cancer
or suffering Alzheimer's curse. There is no easy answer.
Thank God for a healthy body that for two pleasant hours can walk,
a mind that can still imagine, a voice that can sing and talk.
To use it all for his glory, to help other people in pain
is the whole of my ambition, contentment forever to gain.
Cora Gail Trent
www.cgtrent.com
cgtrent@att.net
