I went to the small park again,
Here in the inner city at the end of my street.
It is little more than an acre in size.
A pathway runs through it.
A vacant old building sits across the street,
Where a homeless shelter may yet be built.

GO trains run along one side, behind the fence.
The Corktown Pub sits near the far end of the park.
Also nearby is a tiny forested hill, 
Where two tents have recently appeared on top.

The park has a children’s playground and several benches.
Large maple trees surround its perimeter,
Offering a sheltering, protective presence.
The park seems to envelope all who pass through,
Especially the very young, 
Who play restlessly within its boundaries.

Today I felt the hidden life of the park;
Its living presence—like a silent companion in spirit
That lives as a soulscape softly rooted 
Beyond the threshold of my uncomprehending mind.