FALL’S SILENT ZEN  (12-14-96, Galveston Island, Texas)

   
     
leaves fall silent    
before my feet    
from tree    
boughs    
and limbs    
down to    
ground    
in golds    
and reds    
like photos    
of sunsets    
roses      
and memories    
temporarily    
reblooming again    
like fiery feathers    
fallen    
everywhere    
all around      
even painting      
these daydream streets    
with impressionistic    
brush strokes    
of leaves    
in yellows      
reds    
oranges and golds    
in their seasonal    
elegant dance    
of simply      
letting go    
showing us all    
the way    
perhaps    
but sadly    
how many of us    
ever truly    
listen anymore      
to anything nature      
has to say    
and yet    
the graceful    
continuous flow      
of its never ending    
inseparable stories    
eloquently    
beautiful language    
never ceases    
nor fails    
to completely      
and deeply      
astound me    
to touch and      
move me    
more    
just as here      
now    
as fall continues    
to daily deliver    
its surprising treats    
abound    
seen and found    
almost everywhere    
i look    
around me    
as intermittently    
amid this      
serene    
grand ballet      
acorns too      
drop      
and fall    
drop and fall    
with scattered      
taps and muffled    
thuds    
amongst the fallen      
dance    
of leaves    
as they hit      
the ground    
they often bounce    
and roll    
bounce and roll    
and like this child    
i am    
i bend down    
pick up and fill    
my empty pockets    
full    
of these simple    
yet wondrous      
natural  offered    
living gifts    
from these      
wise    
old      
shielding oaks    
yet even in my    
passive      
peaceful meddling here    
i cant help but      
notice    
all the foraging    
birds nearby    
anywhere within    
a hundred feet    
of my gentle    
reflective    
non threatening    
presence      
still take      
abruptly    
to the trees    
out of either    
some innate      
collective species      
fear    
of me alone    
i suppose      
though certainly    
hope not    
or perhaps    
of some    
other more    
specific genetic    
species instinct    
of vigilant distance      
kept      
away from      
the greater    
more deadly      
species      
of human kind    
itself      
as a      
whole    
as their only      
semi successful    
thus far    
feather winged    
strategy      
for continued    
survival    
of whats      
presently      
still left    
remaining    
of their      
flighty      
feathered    
own      
as falls zen    
continues    
to magically open    
falling ever
further still    
into      
the even more    
wondrous
dance  
of other such     
magical
feeling
and healing
zen like  
fall days
as this