Drifting below the shrugging branches
in alternating bands of morning light,
a scattering of wavering leaves
is exhaled from the wind-brushed treetops.

As the leaves wander downward
a sudden flush of landing-pad blooms
explodes in majestic vivid color,
reaching outwards
like the pomegranate-stained
thumbs of children.

How we yearn
to inhabit such moments,
to resplendently paint murals of renewal
across our protective cocoons of imagination,
from which we will then emerge pupae-like,
ever awaiting a lover's welcoming smile.

07/21/2009

Author's Note: Please check out my new book! ;)>

Posted on 07/21/2009
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