Power of Nature: James Adamson

To the Glory of God
To Gwyneth, with Love

It reminds me of being at the cottage
The power of nature, the power of water
As it grows like wood
That can’t be broken

Time etches the rocks
The wood feeds
The future where roots
Will flow again

Fossils swirl
Into our minds
Like our first steps and in the sun
We dig little holes and little castles rise

The irony is already there
The clown need not be paid
Then he is our closest friend
Basking in the glow of fallen storms

Mountains in the distance are like dark green
Deep blue hanging in the clouds
Simple buildings are bright yellow
Like pasta they celebrate our moment

Small pops of an inside green little pea
We try to get through them
So that something gets started
Like they never begin or end