Like fingers reaching in and through
Grasping at each image we recall
Twisting and turning beneath our stare
Trying to see what is and is not really there.
The spaces between like pages turned
Flipping aimlessly in an autumn breeze
We stand stoically like dying trees
Trying to hang our hopes like ornaments
On bare branches of existence.
We crave the fullness of summer days
Of the midnight winds rustling our thoughts
And sultry nights leave sweat dampened skin
We feel most alive there
Swinging on branches that carry our weight
On solitary swings
Back and forth
Our feet rising higher as we kick and push
Never fearing the heights
Of a divine moment spent
In the company of birds and clouds,
Beneath the leaves before they too turn
And slip away dying,
We rock beneath their confetti-like shapes
Oblivious to all that will come
For future days and passing seasons
Herald the tangled emotion
Of forward movement,
Life and death
And the moments lived in between.