I turned and saw this tree sprawled
against a clouded sky, a stark contrast
of autumnal browns against the vibrant
blue and white — when I let myself
really see the beauty in this world,
each moment becomes vital and humbling,
the leaves in the final stage before
falling, re-turning into the soil, the sun
at the crest of the afternoon before
the blue deepens to a sleepy periwinkle,
the wind that just begins to whisper
in the limbs, a soothing rhythm intended
to lull all the world into an expectation
of rest, a welcome surrender to peace again.
—C.L. Fisher, December 2020
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Poetic Meanderings 