Monday, October 18, 2010

A View from the Garden

A butterfly sails quietly over sun-dappled leaves;
barely a whisper she makes in her journey,
but what the breeze sings while it lifts her.

The humming bird chooses this moment to land,
and, with wings stilled, looks lovingly at the world,
feeling a stillness from which to find revel in new flights.

Sun sends slant soft warming rays to caress all cares,
in this, the last flowering of summer's bloom,
known to us as the rosy blush of ripening autumn.

Summer has flown south to make way for winter chill;
the geese have all regained their far distant homing place,
while here the squirrels fidget and fuss over their winter pantries.

Small hands reach forward and up, fingers lovingly outstretched
to belovenly stroke tree trunks and the leaves in their turning,
waving with imploding delight when a leaf offers itself as an unexpected gift.

In this light more subdued, quiet calls one, upward and away,
to ponder the mysteries of our slow yet steady revolutions,
and to wonder why each moment could not be as perfectly serene as this.

© 2010 by Elisabeth T. Eliassen

No comments:

Post a Comment