There are colors in their season
We anticipate the bright changes
Of Fall and have learned to love
The gray of winter.
The sun dances in varying brilliance
Across the patios, terraces, yards
And gardens this world over. The
Rain covers and gives drink
To the thirsty.
All of the moments are given back.
All of the things that can turn us
Away can bring us Home.
The messy of LEGOs big and small
Reminds me of healthy playing
And breath that is a miracle.
The cries of wanting their own way
Of my own desperate search for
Meaning and why to life.
And the struggle we all have since
That fruit, the Garden and a bite.
The wind in the trees reminds me
Of how far I have come. In miles from that
Farm in Pennsylvania, yes, but in the
Ways of the fragile, the sickness that
Wanted to take me and smear its
Dark label over me.
Of all of the over
Coming that brought me here.
The fight is far from over, and I still
Before me. But the looking, the complete
Transforming of your face that gives everything
I need, yes…
It is all because of You.