L. B. Mek

lost & found



I always felt a stranger, to Nature

when classics mused over Daffodils or Nightingales 

I assumed they were on-hand, handy metaphors

to be inserted, when needed

random choices from symbolism’s buffet, till - that Monday

draped in dreary like my fellow City ants, I scurried busily 

head down, short steps slaloming past, life’s collisions. 

I knew each creased pavement square 

and they knew me, intimately - watched me 


from when they first echoed my childhood’s, offbeat skipping

carried me, to and from my rollercoaster days

of a spirited teen’s: myopic serenity.


That day, from amongst the swarming goth clouds 

a slit of opportunity escaped, with enough fortuitous serendipity

to highlight, beckoning: heated frozen-pea brightness of solace

I had never noticed, before. Mesmerised, I gravitate

dashing across traffic to survive and take breath 

recovering, from a foreign sensation of emancipating whimsicality. 


Slowly, l took-in its green carpet of lush majesty

wind kissed grass, swaying gently - yet loud, landlocked

amongst that sea of grim-squared-grey curating, people’s paths


nature’s fingertips reached out - I reached back

yearning to connect

warmed by its welcoming embrace, I kneeled

fingers, fisted for societal survival – loosening, to self-heal

and merge, with this island of lost wisdom: now found. 

It too, mirrored my reached-for connection

soothing something - from deep within, that was once lost

to those sandwiched grey horizons

of our bleak city’s, divisive: skyscraper curtains.


I look up – now cageless


in a brand-new perspective of life

emerging revitalised – drawing strength

from nature’s

sublime purity: of might!



© L. B. Mek 

June 2020