November 2, 2025 – nonsense

Look,

There is the clear blue sky

And the miracle of perceiving it;

This wind,  those golden autumn leaves

And the green, fresh earth

Beneath it all

The nonsense of creation

In all its unlikely brilliance

Is for now, not later, not before

As am I,

As are you,

For when we’re gone

It will be as if we never were.

Leave a comment

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.