To a gentle soul

I’ve seen you there every day as I drive by that place along the side of road. That place just at the edge of the woods next to the pond. A new snow softly covers your resting place this morning though. I wonder if anyone else knows you’re there. Traffic flows, lives are led and days go by, time goes on, but at the edge of the woods, next to the pond lies a gentle soul at final rest. A gentle soul who will no longer walk the woods in perfect silence or leap the streams in perfect grace or wake to morning in perfect peace. A gentle soul lying still beneath new fallen snow. I wonder if anyone else knows you’re there. Come Spring, when the snow is gone there’ll be no trace of you, but I’ll know that there is a place along the road…at the edge of the woods…by the pond…where a gentle soul once lay. Sacred ground.