Creational Theology (IV): The Contented Consumer

Another Time (A Poem)

Creek Another Time

Cows came to lap at water here,
     by the bank,
where oak and maple would shade
     them, and where even
I might have found rest.

The sounds of traffic then would
     have been the cacophony of
birdsongs -- finch, bluebirds, robins,
     towhee, and the ubiquitous crow,

Taking a sabbath-rest from his
     plundering of the man's corn,
the man who sowed and waited and
     reaped here, by the creek,
down early from his house on the hill.

Today I pass a landscape long-shaped
     by people who no longer remember
what was here -- the green valley, 
     lapping water, caressing breeze
and the man, long gone, but today I saw it in

My mind's eye, like it was yesterday.

Steve West

[I wrote this after a bicycle ride along the greenway by Crabtree Valley, along Crabtree Creek.  I am old enough to remember when Crabtree Valley Mall was a cow pasture, when the Beltline (I-440) was not here, and Glenwood Avenue was a two-lane non-commercial strip, and when Kidd Brewer still lived in his house on the hill.]