234. Beneath An Old Oak Tree

I sat beside the sea, beneath an old oak tree.

I watched in awe as what I saw, I could not believe.

Two doves flying ever so high in the sky, so carelessly.

The breeze upon my cheeks left me feeling quite free,

as I closed my eyes and listened to the soft-spoken cries

of the fluttering flies that buzzed around me all day and all night.

I could hear the calming sea wave at me ever so softly,

and gently were they crashing upon the sandy shore,

where I once stood, not yet beneath the old oak wood.

I preferred this sight, much to my delight, on this very night.

And so, I lounged in the moonlit sky for the very first time,

to my surprise, all things around me then came to life.

The doves had gone to sleep, though, nesting in the tree above me,

and though I could see them clearly lying there so peacefully,

I did not wish to wake them, as I did not want this moment to end.

So, I lied down on the ground and slept until morning came around,

to where the doves were mourning the end of their slumber.

And now they lumbered around, crying their many sorrows aloud. 

I awoke to their saddened cries, which made me teary eyed. 

The once beautiful scene of life around me, I could no longer see.

I listened to the doves, so much in love, and I wondered why.

How could something so beautiful turn into something so dreary?

And it did not occur to me then that this was a part of life.

I looked elsewhere, to see that the sea no longer carried any waves.

The breeze had gone away, and the sky above was rather plain,

with no clouds overhead, but instead, the same two doves soared.

They flew and flew as far as you could see, quite pleasantly. 

Not so different from yesterday, though today it rained.

And I wished that it would have always happened this way.

Clouds carried the burden of a thousand lonely years,

never to touch the ground, yet always hanging around.

They carried the earth’s tears as she wept without a sound

save the pitter patter of her eternal life whisking away,

into a saddened nothingness that left her in utter distress. 

And here we lay, beneath an old oak tree, listening to the waves.

An escape from reality, you see, isn’t always what it seems.

It could be anything, but it is always something we seek. 

Even if it means lying beneath an old oak tree, 

listening to two doves and their sweet, sweet melody.

Or perhaps watching a butterfly flutter and fly,

Now, wouldn’t that be a pleasant sight to see?