when we haven't been visited by beauty in a while, we fall
for any passing pleasure, and then, turn back
to leaf,
something simple
coming down and sealing with window
in early
morning storm mist,
and we are
reminded of another realm
of daily revelation.
This particular leaf--poplar i think, with burnt crimson rim, lands unexpectantly still
on my morning window, clinging then releasing its temporary seal,
today, in the midst of such warm storms.
This shape could be
a continent of memory.
i think even the storm warmth itself has something
in waiting
to teach me of God
Keep me seeing You
in all
that presses to my window seal
keep me still enough to hear
You, in falling of a single leaf,
from such unseen distances through time;
to notice these instances and
not settle for less than this kiss from heaven
