Grace and Peace to you.
One splendid autumn day
light leaps from leaves,
an ecstasy of yellow, red and orange,
your eyes enflamed with glory,
caught up in the moment's crimson rapture.
But then, when flame gives way to smoke,
and embers cool to ochre, dull and sere,
when fire gives way to ash
and winter's long stone wall,
will those moments be any less given,
any less precious and passing?
The light, even the light that languishes
beneath an asphalt sky,
beneath a soggy tarp of cloud,
still leaps within the light.
In the eye behind the eyes,
where grace is more than splendor,
every stain or shadow is a form of beauty,
the angle of a door a prayer,
and glory is the hidden name,
and praise a coiled spring within.
A glorious day,
as thick clouds,
unpleasant winds and incessant rain
reveal the divine presence
and the wonder of created Being
beyond the visible front
that is continually moving through our area.
Copyright © Steve Garnaas-Holmes