THREE WONDERS by R. RAPHE
In the morning drafty skies rise, painted the colour of melted crayons.
Withered leaves whisper in my hands. Weary. Lost in absence of light .
Creating swan songs in heavy grey fog. I listen. Their words fall at my feet.
Swathed in the constant drip of crying pines.
Crimson leaves disintegrate like soda crackers.
Fleeing geese glide. Long and lonely cries. They sing for Him.
He walks in the garden and as He passes, all the earth follows.
Churning skies sweep over lost mountains. They do not whisper. They bellow.
The grand finale. Then in time, it all changes to gold.
Old leaves collect rain, making them new. The first wonder.
Birds sleep low in the hush. The second wonder.
Clouds sweep away invisible pirate ships on the horizon.
And the trees sigh at last. They whisper. Then they sleep.I did not hear their words, for the wind washed away their voices.
The world awakens to the sound of soft footfalls passing.
I vanish into the moment I have been given. For I could hear all He said to me . It was the third wonder.
Lost in the sway of the sky . Lost in its embrace. Lost no more.....
"Just the still melancholy I love, that makes life and nature harmonize..." -George Eliot
Photographs 2023 R. Raphe