Poetry – Lesson On Five Fingers

now that I have learned
how seasons are returned
brook my laughter here
to the running years
waterfall the fears

now that I realize
how much the world denies
green my sense leaves bright
to chlorophyl of light
photocell the nights

now that I have found
how each must choose his ground
terrace my piece of time
to a hill of sweet limes
stairway the climb

now that I have seen
how cunning walks between
mountain my trust high
to the pigmy wise
landslide the lies

now that I understand
how heart unites with hand
radar the future free
to the dove singing me
laurel the peace

— Elizabeth Bartlett