Poetry – When The Cloud Comes Down The Mountain
When the cloud comes down the mountain,
And the rain is loud on the leaves,
And the slim flies gather for shelter
Under my cabin eaves,Then my heart goes out to earth,
— Charles G. D. Roberts
With the swollen brook runs free,
Drinks life with the drenched brown roots,
And climbs with the sap in the tree.
Reblogged this on The Homestead Gardener.