and all that was meant to be
these precious days pass by
like a picture book dream
featuring rolling hills and
psychedelic fields
filled with buttercups
and honeybees
diving off a mountain bluff
you slowly descend
circling an umbrella of trees
guided by a willful power
taking you to the stream
alone you stand calling out
without saying a word
and all that was
and all that was meant to be
filters through your sparkling eyes
may two thousand sixteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
jdubqca 
This is a marvellously crafted poem which, for me, captures a sense of acceptance of life. Its tone is both melancholic yet almost joyful and it flows really well. Fine writing.
Chris, thank you so much for your comments on this poem. As a fellow poet, I am very appreciative of your thoughts.
You are very welcome. I always look forward to reading you.