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.
