UPON THE MORN

 

Have you walked in the corn

Or felt of a bull’s horn . . .

Have you watched an Eagle fly

Or heard a child cry . . .

May be watched a bull frog leap,

Or felt the wool of a sheep.

 

The pitter patter of little feet

Or leaves blowing on the street . . .

Looked into the eyes of fear

Or saw the color of a tear . . .

Flowers that bloom in spring,

And a morning when birds sing.

 

We must experience it all

So, there’re memories to recall . . .

We’re so caught up in the world

We never see a rose uncurl . . .

Stop and watch the sunrise,

And count clouds in the skies . . .

The crow sits in the corn,

As he waits upon the morn!

 

Thomas Theophilus© July 15, 2025