This day of January sun,
light, cloud and wind
tugging at the last oak leaves,

stubborn like my soul
with gathered treasure.

Afraid to let go to the horizon,
changing with the rhythm unseen
as it moves through the tall trees,

calling me into tomorrow.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

7 Responses

  1. This poem reminds me of the moment when you let go to the roller coaster ride (of life) and feel the satisfying “whump” of free fall, safe with the risk, full with satiation.

  2. Great metaphor-oak trees are last holdout in giving up their leaves just like our EGO’s. Our souls are not stubborn, on the contrary they are very patient with our self centered STUBBORN ego’s!
    GREAT POETRY keep it flowing brother.

  3. Thank you from your grinning soul brother, Don. This morning I passed a young mother in a grocery aisle with toddler son in the cart. His neck suddenly rotated to put him eye to eye with me, and then he stood up, his own grinning passion for life bouncing his body as he pointed to me. His mother looked at both of us and could not help but yield to that moment with us. A shared blessing with no word spoken.

    So, I would add to Elizabeth’s wonderful comment that this little story exemplifies the power of that propulsion radiating loved gratitude into our worlds. We enter the unknown…knowingly.

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *