By that old pathway

By that old pathway we went down

into the valley;

much had changed, the dairy was

gone, with it the intense smell of

cows, manure and milk, that thick
white liquid we collected in the

morning, just before d r i n k i n g it

inviting a suit of aromas to fulfill your

brain with all sort of wishes, deep

into the core of your guts,

blackberries and nettles flanked the track moistened in the coolest

splashing water all summer long

The blanket plant was still waving

walls though abandoned, what a

delight squeezing hands inside the

wool like caressing sheep, grass and

feeling secretly safe within a downy

realm under a massive granitic

frenzy of rain

The chapel, one of the many,

glimmering in green, white and gold

stood proudly by the huge plane

trees, resonating hourly bells, clear

as August scorching skies, reaching

the highest peaks, welcomed us on

our descent to the river, the one yet

finding it's way through the same

rocks;

on its margin, a house was being

brought up, so daring! Confronting

nature's bed and divine

casualties with human privates...

Though much was forever changed

we found the same well and we

bathed rejoicing our naked souls in

the fresh summering water, swam

like little painters, jumped off the

cliff, fell for the smell of mint and got

bitten by hairy flies, just like in good

old days, drenched in sun, belief

and mundane love.

© 2014, JC