Meeting with the Morning Walking

The sky,

this morning’s brilliant blue,

asks, “So, do you love me now?”

“Yes” I reply, “and never more

than this moment.”

The pavement under my feet is worn.

It speaks of passage

and of autumn leaves that stain its pores.

I say to this ground

“I’m thankful for all you’ve seen

and how you’ve served.”

The Chinese tallow-woods

that line the street say, “Eye our bones;

soon we’ll be glamorous and green.”

I see their rough bark and how sunlight

reaches into cracks and crevices.

The air whispers,

“Take me softly and take me deep.”

And I do,

for the air is warming

with the perfumes of the earth in this

changing season time.

My feet say, “Keep your rhythm.”

but the flowers by the path won’t be told

and say their piece, “Behold our colours, they’re more beautiful

than you can bear, for you fail to stop.”

Then I do, a fool

falling through the eye of a bloom.