Autumn’s Journal

 

With every breath, with every beat of dark red blood

I am more and more in sync with autumn’s journal

Clinging

then

Surrendering

then

Falling

then

Dancing

then

Encircling

then

Gathering

then

Dying

Making way for some new thing not yet even formed

Some new thing not much more than a thought

Yet a thought that is both assured and ripe

Even if my own eyes never see it

Or my own blood possesses it

 

Peace

Copyright (TZampino) 2020

Image: My Own Photo – 10/24/2020

 

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