My eyes yearn to see those things
Which I have never seen…
To scale the highest mountain peaks
That rule the evergreen…
My legs desire to trace the way
'Cross meadows, fields, and streams
And to traverse that narrow path
Where few footsteps have been.
I would love to feel the wind
Upon my flowing hair…
To hear the birds and smell the flow'res
And breathe the unspoiled air.
If stars were made for wishing,
And dreams made to come true
I'd conquer all my frailties
So these dreams I might pursue.
Lauren Isaacson
June 16, 1984
Captive
(Milkweed Pod/Man)
Borne through the air on silken shafts,
The product of a waning life
Is hastened on its windward course;
Imprisoned in its silver craft,
It journeys toward that fateful end
Where it shall rival life and death.
Man thrives upon the tender thought
That he is master of his life,
Remembering not the autumn seed
Whose dormancy is blessed with life
Through nature's will and circumstance;
Yet is not man as surely bound
Unto his birthright's soul and mind,
Entrapped upon the winds of time
And captive of the senses?
Lauren Isaacson
June 17, 1984
Beyond
How I long
For a place beyond
Where land and sky are one
Where the beam
That will shine
Upon fruit and vine
Is a true, benevolent sun…
Where age and time
Are not maligned
Like sun obscured by cloud
And battle fields
To peace shall yield;
Old scars it will enshroud…
The unseen frights
Of moonless nights
Nowhere shall be found
And love will fall
On each and all
As rain upon the ground…