WATER SEEKS ITS OWN LEVEL

Comanche Creek flowing 2016O Beautiful

For spacious skies

For Mason County land.

For coreopsis

In the fields

And tanks so full

Again.

For hills of green

And coastal tall

And rainfall

Blessings be.

We sow and reap

And eat and sleep

And give our thanks

Deeply.

Coreopsis.

Or “Golden-wave.”

Some call ‘em Black-Eyed Susans.

(Actually, we only have Brown-Eyed Susans in the Hill Country.)

Some call ‘em “those yeller flowers.”

Whatever they are, those golden waves are risin’ and swellin’ this season.

Our pastures overfloweth.

If this was coastal, we’d all be rich.

Cows graze knee deep in the flowers.

The calves downright hidden (along with the snakes).

Thanks to these Spring rains.

And warming days.

As our world turns towards Summer.

Already.

Though we still get some cool temps.

There goes Time.

Hurrying offstage.

Always changing its costume.

Always changing its part.

A new look.

A new phase.

A new season.

Or new reason.

Graduating.

Gardening.

Moving.

Traveling.

Clearing.

Cleaning.

Wedding shower.

Baby shower.

Thunderstorms wielding power.

And bringing its own showers.

And downpours.

And gullywashers.

Low-water crossings disappear under water.

Rivers rise.

And rise quickly.

Twelve people found that out the hard way.

But were saved.

Thanks to the Mason Volunteer Fire Department.

That’s Mason.

Read more poetry!

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