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From out in deep water, far from the shore, The call grasps me deeply, right to my core. Few sounds on this Earth can affect me this way, As the howl of the Loon at the close of the day. Sounds undulating, climbing, and then, Echoing back from the far shore again. Rippling, soaring, and filling my soul, To hear every nuance, now, is my goal! The call is so mournful, eerie and long. I thrill at the voice in the Wilderness' song! The water is calm now; the lake is so still. Night time is coming, and with it the chill. Time hangs suspended; I wait in my boat, Not daring to breathe now, lest I miss a note. Yes, God has graced me, to touch me like this; Mother Nature's reached out to give me a kiss! The concert is over, and gone on the breeze. I'll carry the memory of moments like these. And then in the city, when peace is denied, I'll think of this: Wilderness Personified. Robert Piquette Parc La V�rendrye, Qu�bec February 26, 1994 |
| Loon |