November Poem

As we once more connect ourselves to the present moment, let us consider the beautiful Sunday that lies before us. Here is a poem to capture it's magic.

"How silently they tumble down
And come to rest upon the ground
To lay a carpet, rich and rare,
Beneath the trees without a care,
Content to sleep, their work well done,
Colors gleaming in the sun.

At other times, they wildly fly
Until they nearly reach the sky.
Twisting, turning through the air
Till all the trees stand stark and bare.
Exhausted, drop to earth below
To wait, like children, for the snow."
- Elsie N. Brady, Leaves

In case you might be curious the flowers pictured at the top of the blog are from a lovely amaryllis that my mom gave me a few years ago. It is now sitting in the garage, letting go for a while until the cherry red flowers shoot up like stars once more!


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