An Advent of Sense

Winter wheat the frayed tips lit up all amber rosy by golden hour goodbye I look upon mounds and stumps where palatial towers used to soar the greens and browns of my childhood play. Rising over this field I hover in time encouraging myself to expand and absorb

I sometimes catch myself wanting for things that I have not I politely escort greed aside and ask him, please, to leave. For greed is the enemy of now him who haunts all of contentment insidious, he tries to sneak back in we are all on the lookout.

I love these rainy river days No difference can be heard between waters they move in ever-changing time making their needs known to the lilt of a kudzu vine their breathless bodies plunge the earth and bring me back to beauty.

These leaves are falling. This warmth is fading. Winter is rumbling in the distance.

Brim and bramble River ramble Coursing hands toward rushing rain Hipbone hollow Fingers follow Descend to waterfall terrain Tightly twisting terse tsunami Building boiling burst beyond me Lightweight lapping Twilight tapping Ebbing till she flows again