Creational Theology (IV): The Contented Consumer
Cardinals

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.]

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