The Interloper

On lime stones we’d laid
The chipmunk sat erect
His beady brown eye watched me
Wondering what to expect

While he devoured a nut
His teeth worked at warp speed
He sat oh so still
Satisfying his need.

The creek kept on flowing
Behind the barrier wall
The chipmunk did not notice
Its rise or its fall.

The ducks kept on laughing
Beating their wings in the stream
The sun kept on shining
But the day ran out of steam.

There is stillness in the motion
And silence in the sound
Of nature dining, dancing
And something so profound.

For life goes on without me
As if I were not there
And only when I approach
Does creation begin to care.

I’m not the center of their universe
The maker of their world,
They see me as intruder
As their days unfurl.

I may be the gardener,
Or one who mows the lawn
But I’m not a part of nature
Without me it still goes on.

The Bible says of us
We’re the apple of His eye
But my magnolia does not know me
As it reaches for the sky.

Could it be that all creation
Lives for God above
Who gave it life and time
And abundance of His love?

Creation was not groaning
On this fine Fall day
It was merrily playing
With Winter not far away.

The chipmunk knows its coming
He forages without pause
His fur grows thicker, longer
Does he know the cause?

Sometimes I do wonder
Who best reads God’s signs
Is it my larger brain
Or that acorn-sized mind?

And who best senses his presence
Or obeys his laws
The more you think on it,
The more it gives you pause.

Enough of contemplation
The chipmunk runs away
And I am left with beauty
At closing of the day.

Oct. 21, 2011

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