Theatre In The Mist

Like curtains drawn over the hill in a cloudy cloth
the still mist hangs concealing man's forward path.
Bald patches on wooded heads in audience appear
as Autumn in style bows out of its part for a year,
to a bad tempered Winter rehearsing in the wings
who enters stage left when his northern wind sings.
Mimicking the last wolf searching for his lost band
heartbroken in his quest he forsakes the land,
To man, who relentlessly drove him into time's mist
extinct yet still calling for the eerie wind will insist.
Now slowly come the changes in what man pursues
for my part I wonder how much nature can excuse.
Man, who in greed took the land with all it can give
assuming after this there is another life he can live.
how, in quick time, his sins to nature he will forget
that he enters heaven, forgiven, and yet, and yet!

sonofadam