I shall miss this.

 LOOKING BACK WHEN THE TIME COMES

By Bob French

The silence of the night, so deep and dark, gradually changes, slowly at first by the faint shimmers of cream and yellow spreading across the distant horizon, then the gentle chorus of bird song gradually rising from all corners to a cacophony.  Then steadily the sky is filled with a million colours of the rainbow as a new day is born.  I shall miss this.

To hear the sound of young children laughing and playing in the parks; on the river banks and in the fields.  Happiness in abundance, with no care of fear, threat or danger as they live their young innocent lives, watched by their minders, parents and loved ones, who all look on them with love and contentment as they grow.  I shall miss this.

The sound of the river as it gently glides idly by, creating a sense of peace enjoyed by those who take the time to sit and listen.  Its glistening surface changing colour as the sky above moves across us all, dictating how the land we live in endures and grows.  The smells of the fields and the hard-working animals as they put their shoulder to the task.  I shall miss this.

The winding paths that lead through pastures green and trees so tall; the leaves that gently move in the cool afternoon breeze, giving comfort to those who choose to rest in the shade.  The air that carries the scent of the wild honeysuckle and jasmine that grows in places that only bring pleasure and a sense of tranquility.  I shall miss this.

The changing weather that heralds the seasons of our being on this earth, the meeting of families and friends to celebrate old memories and good times.  The young, proudly showing off to their grandparents and relatives whose time on this earth is drawing to a close, seeing hope in their young eyes and a wish for a better future.   Their young and innocent faces; so much to live for. So much to learn.  I shall miss this.

To friends who endured the hardships and comradery of serving in places far from our home shores, to those we remember, but no longer here.  The people who shared their love and friendship and the times we had in those mad, reckless, dangerous days, thinking that tomorrow may not come.  Remembering the women who gave their hearts and souls to a belief that one day things would change, to the tears and heartbreak that always followed.  They will always be in my mind.  I shall miss this. 

Feeling the temperature of the day slowly changing as the light fades, bringing to a close of another day.  The fading birdsong and rustling of the trees high on the distant hills slows to a still and birds and animals move to silence, seeking a place to sleep in the coming night. The black velvet sky high above stretching far away to the distant horizon speckled with diamonds, then silence.  

I shall miss this.

Copyright Bob French