POEM - A Hammock in a Busy World

Off the roundabout
Circled round about
By the skyscraper jungle
A wrought iron gate lays open
Set into a primeval limestone boulder wall
A fortification against encroachment
Monument to the land
A brief pause steeped in flora
This is what was discarded
In taming the swamps and marshes
A moment of reverence
But not of quiet
As the blanched white trail
Made from tiny sun bleached seashells
Crunches in a soothing way
Under each ponderous step
The flickering light through the canopy
Is at once exciting and soothing
And it is a small pause only
The train is just over the fortifications
Traffic honks and the lunch crowd caucophony
Flicker through the trees like the light
And the patchwork of scents
Float across my olfactory
Is that a rotting persimmon
Or is it a paw-paw
Mixed with something faintly eucalyptus
A medicinal fermentation
Not altogether unpleasant
But unexpected in its pungent symphony
And I am calmed
And I understand the name
Assigned this feature
The sign says it is a hammock
And the gentle sway of the breeze
The settling drowsy nature
And the meandering circuitous path
All agree
Gentle calm centering spot
I came expecting concrete and asphalt
I found a resting place
Clinging loosely
On limestone waves