Autumn Oak

Here and there, in protected places,
handfuls of golden leaves still wave
from the tops of the maples. But
for the most part, the branches
are bare, ready for their winter naps.
Except, of course, for the oaks,
the magnificent ones, who only now
put on their amber autumn color.
Wearing their glowing crowns
they reign now, trumpeting the trees’
last song, proclaiming the judgment:
Well and beautifully done.

Wishes and Dreams

Now is the time for wishes and dreams,
for spinning your hopes and casting
your seeds. Let them fly. Toss them
to the sky, believing. Let them sail
along the secret trails that destiny
weaves through the seasons and times.
Let them go. Then sleep the winter sleep
my child, until wonder wakes you in a land
warmth and fragrant green, where birds
float to music and all your best wishes
come true.

Come Dance

Red Trees at the Walking Trail

In the spotlight of the afternoon sun
beneath the darkening trees,
come dance. Before the next round
of clouds drift in, while the air
is still warm and clear, come here.
Catch the mood of the tumbling
red leaves. Let joy infuse your motion.
Fling your arms wide, pretend
you are five, feeling alive, and twirl.
Twirl. Twirl until you are giddy,
until you are swept up with joy.
Come play. Come dance.
It may be your last chance.
Come waltz in the sun while you may.