As kindly cottonwoods around us rise,
Entwining wistful melodies of green,
We walk beneath our shade-entangled skies
Through gothic vaulting, hand in hand, unseen.
Through autumn’s latticework of wind-chime leaves
A sowing sun casts broad its final rays.
Soft evening bundles all our cares in sheaves
As we set forth upon our path of days.
I am the bosque, thou the breeze,
Along the Rio Grande’s storied stream.
Thou art the light, and I the trees,
And our enchanted path a waking dream.
Time’s river these, our days, shall not erase,
Beneath the God-made bridge of our embrace.
© Joseph Charles MacKenzie. All rights reserved.