Last week I stared
at the rainbow tree
strutting magnificently
outside my door,
it’s branches brim-
with saffron strands
and carmine kiss,
wrapped in ginger
grace of fall.

This week my tree
waves hazel limbs
drunkenly in the sky,
bare in their reach,
as a few last henna fronds
thoughtfully hold on,
dipping to and fro
while the wind gulps
in dismissal.

Life moves too fast
to hold on to-
one day bright symphony,
the next wan chord,
the fullness of it’s voice
made whole in the soft
of it’s trace.

Sometimes you
just have to let it
wash over you-
a torrent of
tiny moments
and sonorous breath
and falling copper leaves
that somehow compose
the heartsong’s of these days.

I can’t take it all with me,
but I can let it
beat in my blood
and break into my heart
and bathe me in
the love of it’s gaze,
and I can know
that for today-
and every day since-
I have a place here.
And it is enough.