There was a lurid green sheen  
to the ancient creek.  
Sweetly haunted by  
the secret summer reflections
of the leaves.  
The sunbeams form brilliant white ripples
on the surface of the cool languid water.  
What a perfect location for peace to loiter.  
The gliding geese pepper the creek,
a visual feast of their natural pageantry.  
I decided to just be.  
In the moment.  
In the immediate journey.
Let past and future worries flee.

In the still of night, a plan took flight,
Like doves in the sky, so pure and bright.
But shadows whispered of danger near,
God saw the path and drew you near.

With gentle wings, He changed the way,
Protecting your heart, come what may.
So let the doves fly, unburdened and true,
For what was meant to harm you, God turned into good.

I don't want to be the last petal to fall
Don't want to be the only one at last call
I don't want to live over the hill
I don't want to be the last one that will

Don't want to be the last of my friends
Don't want to be the last to trend
Don't want to go in the out door
Don't want to go on about this anymore