Late Autumn, and majestic masses of laden clouds
congregate and collide in the sky theater above me,
while here below innumerable heaps of turning leaves
soak into the moistened earth in a ceremony of surrender.
Although the intermittent sky patches of brilliant blue
can always take my breath away, I’m drawn of late
to the plain and simple things –
a leafless tree branch reaching out to touch the air,
to feel its tangible emptiness, its fundamental silence.
There’s a petrified forest that features the preserved remains
of trees fallen a quarter billion years ago, along with fossils
of various dinosaurs that died there while the trees
looked on, impartially witnessing their demise.
There is an unspeakable beauty in the way time seems to go,
a continuous revelation in the way everything is changing.
Any moment now, a book of ecstasy may open
and it will start to rain.
You tell me how you stand in the midst and are moved to weep,
and it is not a sadness, or even a joy, but something else.
It’s as if the whole world is always passing into another dimension,
but what it leaves behind is more precious than words can say.
Without understanding any of this, I will still bow down.