Old Friends

Old friends are a steady spring rain,

or late summer sunshine edging into fall,

or frosted leaves along a snowy path—

a voice for all seasons saying, I know you.

The older I grow, the more I fear I'll lose my old friends,

as if too many years have scrolled by

since the day we sprang forth, seeking each other.

Old friend, I knew you before we met.

I saw you at the window of my soul—

I heard you in the steady millstone of my heart

grinding grain for our daily bread.

You are sedimentary, rock-solid cousin earth,

where I stand firmly, astonished by your grace and truth.

And gratitude comes to me and says:

"Tell me anything and I will listen.

Ask me anything, and I will answer you."

Copyright Credit: Poem copyright ©2018 by Freya Manfred, "Old Friends," from Loon In Late November Water, (Red Dragonfly Press, 2018). Poem reprinted by permission of Freya Manfred and the publisher.