Some words which came while sitting in the garage before a fall rain.
You listen, and you know it means something,
But just what it means has not yet formed or
Settled; You’re tempted to think it’s nothing,
But you linger a moment at the door.
And there in that moment, midst the noise of
Your day, you stop on this threshold and knock;
The door swings wide, opens broad, high, above,
Where glory descends, and wonder unlocks.
I pause outside, hear the mockingbird call,
The squirrels scowl-screech, the chirping chickadee–
This monochrome cherub who flits midst fall
Colors while a thrush thrashes ochre leaves.
And the fall breeze blows in refrain
Sings the turn in weather, the coming of rain.
© Randall Edwards 2019.
Photo by C. Edwards.