park of (life)

a walk in the park, my life,

watching trees shed, their color,

and at different times (on different days, different walks),

the sun has shown his face to me,

thru limbs of Oaks and Pines,

that as a child, I would climb,

Warmth, Rays of Hope, Dreams,

all, the names of streets which led me to this park of life,

this merry-go-round,

yet, as days turn to years, then to decades,

the terrain of this beautiful place,

has not changed,

only the direction of which I have entered has,

I have drowned in the sand-box on different occassions,

and I have slid, wrecklessly, yet, luckily,

and I have swang, eyes closed, wind in my youthful hair,

I now can see my reflection,

in the mud-puddle,

that I've made,

to my dismay, it's not so bad,

and in this same park, that I have trampled upon,

my children, and hopefully, their's too,

will learn lessons,

that I have willed to them,

I, only a droplet of rain, from one thunderstorm,

from the beginning of the storm,

hope to leave an indention, a mark,

to show others how to take a fall.