Frogs

Oh to be a frog,

Jumping from here to there,

To sing in the lingering light.

To dance upon the pond,

So cool and inviting.

Waiting for the rain

In a dried creek-bed

Late at night.

It must be pleasant

To be able to bury oneself,

Deep within the earth

Until the next rain comes.

I envy the ability

To protect oneself

From the harsh, hot temper

Of the life giver.

To be able to hide from

The noxious poisons given off

By mankind

Is unique and coveted.

But the frog, he can.

He can swim beyond raging waters.

He can hide in the cool comforting soil.

He can be embraced by mother earth.

And feel all the nuturing,

Protecting love a mother can give.

His skin so freckled and smooth,

And he is loved for it.

A frog is a miraculous creature

Grown from strength.

For he is a survivor,

Born into a harsh world,

With the ability to evade

The temper of mother earth.

From conception to a long lived life,

He must overcome many obstacles,

And yet, he still survives.