The soles of my feet
     kiss the lush blades
     that never harm or
     undo me.
     It's the sound of
     jays in the trees
     and the wood burning
     fragrance from
     Autumns offering
     What magic is this?
     is it the work of a witch?
     Or a God that knows
     full well of their creations.
     Do they master the landscape?
     deciding where to place
     every work of art,
     like fingers uncurling
     to breathe life from the dust.
          One single motion,
           scatters us all
           to become runners
           in all the colors of fall
           Blank canvas of winter,
           Cherry lips in spring
            blooming fully in summer,
            I know the way to
        make an offering
        of thanks,
        I kiss the face of one
        who knows the pace
        Of my heart through the seasons
        giving me reasons
        to never fear the leap
        or the break.
             They know my footsteps
             won't regret or forsake
             The adventure of
             discovering beauty in
             Both joy and suffering
             because life is as fleeting
                     as seasons.