Poem: An Ordinary November Morning

Morning skies

delight my eyes.

Sunlight kisses

between each

passing cloud

unseen threads

weaving

through the tapestry

of the living

and the dead.

Leaves fall

decay

and nature's feast is laid.

Squirrels hurry

burying the forest’s dream.

It’s all mad.

The individual

never sees

the ripple

in the grand

vast

lake.

They linger

in the realms untold.

Recycled

repurposed

like stories yet to unfold.

Creation from nothing

a cosmic art.

Just as

sperm and egg

create,

our death

a seed

in the earth's

patient keep.

Ready

for tomorrow's

evolving

grace.