Ancient wood
Sanctuary of serenity
Kissed by spring’s tender breath
Dawn, a painter of subtle visions
Brushes the sky in fresh hues
Burnt sienna, apricot, magenta
Wildflowers show their faces
As she walks by
In recognition
Of her seventieth trip
Around the sun
The trails, strewn
With errant grass, zigzag vines
Flatten under the gait of carefree feet
Each step, a verse in the poetry of her life
Scribed in the ink of ageless blossoms
Her memories, an elaborate mosaic
Cherished colors, scents, sounds
A fox darts across her path
Its coat, a fiery Moroccan sunset
Eyes deep as forgotten wells
She recalls a night in Marrakech
Air, spicy and thick
With Imazighen stories
Around the flickering torchlight
Of her youth
Industrious and sprightly
A squirrel scampers up an oak
Cheeks bulging with bounty
Bringing to mind a crisp autumn
In New York’s Central Park
Where she watched the world
Whirl by in taxi cabs and carriages
Subway cars and buses
Unspooling reveries
In a ribbon
Of urban haze
Soon, a thrush’s melody
Cascades from the canopy above
Lyrical flurry, eighth-note snowflakes
Inspiring the reemergence
Of another treasured experience
Mountainside camp scene
Snow-veiled terrain
Whence birdsong
Was the sole canticle
To a brisk highland dawn
With each encounter
Her heart swells with nostalgia
Gratitude and tranquility
Pure joy of remembrance
The forest landscape, a poem
Each limb, a stanza
Each twig, a rhyme
A living gallery
Of whispered voices
Beside a stony brook
She settles on a weathered bench
Opens her tattered journal
Faithful companion through the decades
To chronicle years well-travelled
A world still unfolding in beauty and mystery
In cycles of seasons, times gone by
Journeys that lay ahead
This, her platinum jubilee
Has been a celebration
Of her enduring passions
As the sun climbs higher
Bathing the treetops in gold
She puts the pen
To a new page
And begins
To write
