There is nothing on my mind,
no deep ponderance or pensive thought
that consumes or occupies attention;
just random idealizations
of the sun, the shade, the skies,
the changing of the seasons
when for a moment's brief contemplated interlude
I can breathe all of life in
the sea, the aromatic leftovers of someone's supper,
the hint of forestal petrichor upon the grass
the crunch of leaves beneath my feet
where fallen leaves now cover the uncut grass
and all the earth slows, seeks a rest
to renew the embodiment of what can yet be
in the futures that await.
Shadowy images creep in
carried on a cold, November wind
and easing through the leaved trees
autumn gives one last final sneeze
as every leaf and even a branch or two
fall from the distant forestal yews.
Listen well to the howls and cries
whispering the song of wonder and beauty of the skies
when God and nature blend the seasons
with calm messages for change and reason.
Should December ease in gentle or wild
the snows ice chilled or the days warm and mild
remember this song whistling thru the trees
God's breath lay in every breeze.
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