Yesterday's leaves that crunched in crackling alarm
fold softly now, awash in morning dew.
I may surprise a squirrel along the way,
or sparrow startled I may chance to view.
And if I pause in perfect silence there
the leaves begin to whisper and to sigh,
the distant geese draw near, fly swift and low,
full songs and whistling feathers cross the sky.
Somewhere nearby a woodpecker gently taps,
a magpie raucously declares the news.
And always waves of whispers and of sighs
wash over me more peace than I can use.
The sun pours through the leaves its shining light:
its warmth remembered in the woods at night.
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