Sunday morning
i went to the house of our collective Spirit
i eavesdropped on the slow drift of the falling leaves
one by one
as they landed with a quiet brush on the ground
already a bed of crinkles and crackles
my ear bent to the gentle knock
of a spotted black and white woodpecker above
i gazed at the Sun
and set an intention --
let every breath,
all that i am, all that we are,
never cease to honor
and find the wondrous light
in each other
