Ah, I think I see a few of the tricks now.
It’s easy not to cling to the last snow of the season,
coming as it does at the end of so long a winter.
And the last daffodil, the last swallowtail butterfly, the last ripe pear –
they’re noted only in retrospect, so it’s not very difficult to let them go.
In the fall, the maple leaf devotes itself so completely to its changes that,
blazing into a timeless moment,
it simply releases from its branch
and softly descends
All rights reserved.
Posted by kind permission of Richard Nowogrodzki.
Crisply the bright snow whispered, Crunching beneath our feet; Behind us as we walked along…
There is a good kind of waiting which trusts the agents of fermentation. There is…
Everything is beautiful and I am so sad. This is how the heart makes a…
This site is brought to you by A Network for Grateful Living, a 501(c)(3) nonprofit. All donations are fully tax deductible in the U.S.A.
© 2000 - 2018, A Network for Grateful Living
Website by Briteweb