LEAVES ON THE COBBLESTONE
Leaves on the cobblestone
making music with the autumn wind.
Tiny footfalls that scuttle by
like phantom children at play-
I open my awareness and take in their song-
and in gratitude, they open their world to me.
The symphony of the wind
carries their spirits from perched limbs
and sets them free into a season
that is less cluttered with psychic debris.
The breath of nature permeates the atmosphere
and my eyes do take note
of the tiniest transformation in the changing world.
Entranced by the crescent moon
as it hovers in the late day sky-
birds in formation flee the coming cold
and my heart soars with them
as they glide upon the gusty gales.
A single raindrop then forms
in the corner of my eye,
and I notice that I am the only one
who is lost in the reverie of this moment…
And I ask myself with shame,
why are those around me so blind?