This Morning

Sitting in the morning sun, I watch and listen.

The sighing of breeze through limb and leaf,

Petals and leaves float like airborne boats, spiral and glide

To soft landings on sparkling grass.

You are the breath that separates them from their source, their home,

And send them on a journey toward the unknowable “next”

–new life by hidden germination or dampening rot.

It looks gentle to me, this journey,

but to petal and leaf? Do they feel wrenched from familiar, wheeling in panic?

Will I be next?

I close my eyes.

Whispery rustling to trill of awakening birds,

I hear your voice

I am listening to you Lord, as you breathe your nearness.

You are here with me, and that is enough.

Sitting in the morning sun, I watch and listen