mid September, transmuting trees
sky diving leaves,
fade scatter upon the field.
abandoned bony branches once arrayed,
are as noticeable in nude as fully dressed
twirl and spin, softly descend
to death
— and that is life.
i gaze upon myself in rapture
behind smoky waves
and branches that sway.
a humming hymn flutters the air
sucking honey from a vine absent care
how does the jay get butter from a fly
tracing zig-zag patterns with his eye.
in such times,
thought is distraction
conversation empty
immortal moment transcends venue.
the breeze flow, satin winds blow
strumming the trees to the sound of rest
every sway releasing a bit of life.
and a whisper
softly beneath it all — hallelujah, hallelujah!
By K.Osei