A short autumn walk
The idea that the breath that I breathe is a gift from the trees helps me to see that when I feel defeat and I’m down on my knees there’s a reason to rise to my feet.
As the sky turns to gray, the trees will release their grip on the leaves that delicately descend and lightly land about the lawn.
The rake greets the leaves like old friends
The lawn is brown and sickly, soon to be smothered by the snow. the compost helps the grass to grow in the seasons of the melting snow.
The auburn bushes line the road, they understand that they will die so they choose to be as beautiful as they can with the time that they have left between the seasons.
They do not ask for reasons, and they do not beg for life, because their weakened roots will strengthen underneath the summer sun that’s sure to come as soon as winters done.