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?
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