Sunday, first blush, arrives with,
peaceful presence.
Sensing another adventure.
another invitation.
A calling from the reading chair,
tucked into the living room nook.
With its open arms and soft cushions.
Placed along side a generous,
scantly dressed window.
Gazing from the inside out.
Eyes rest upon luminescent edges of slanting rain.
Modest sounds accumulate with streams.
Liquid lines steadily drop upon, pavement.
Resonating, vibrating with
familiar sweet water cymbals, all
sharing in nature’s melodic symphony.
Enthusiastic puddles osculating,
around spawning circles.
Opulent rhythmic harmonies blend.
As Tempos fall, wind shifts.
Sacred mystical stirrings,
of haze, fog, and steam.
Autumn aromas arise.
Foretelling the season’s transformations.
Savoring mother’s intonations,
with silent interludes.
Blessed trees drink.
As they grow and dye.
In times of loss and found.
Life unfolds and collapses to begin again.