Tag Archives: Frog

Calling (day 2096)

This is my calling
Run through the forest
Trails along the way
Lead me home, sometimes.

Forage some berries
Discover a toadstool
Help a little frog
Along its merry way.

Some paths grow narrow
Hardly able to walk
A step on a branch
Scares the whole flock.

And then open up
To a wide open meadow
Dig up some roots
Soil to my soul.

This is my calling
Deep winter bark
Roots on my threshold
Home in the end.

Ode to Swamp Flies (day 1869)

Buzz away in such a musical way
Your harmony is such a blessing
And all these bumps that itch just so
Do make me quite at ease
With the frogs that croak all night
Lulling me to sleep so deep
With fading buzzing in my ear
All day and too, out of sight.

Early or Late (day 1772)

I am not secret letters
Or a piece of written word
I am not Spring’s blossoms
Or twigs left to the wind
I am not warmth in a hug
Or laughter of memory
I am not sweet sun so high
Nor pale moon tonight
I am not bed to rest thy head
Or coffee to rouse morning dread
I am not sound from croaking frogs
Or serenade from happy birds
I am not late
Or early
I am
Or I am

Early or Late by Ned Tobin