Mike Turner

Autumn’s Leaves

Autumn’s leaves are turned to parchment

The grass is dead and brown

And I awoke this morning

Without your warmth beside me

Autumn’s leaves are turned to parchment

Bare limbs reach to grey skies

And I sit at noon

Missing the glow of your countenance

Autumn’s leaves are turned to parchment

Wood smoke wafts across the hills

And at evening I first thought

You would not return

Autumn’s leaves are turned to parchment

The first flakes of snow are falling

And in nighttime I lay my head upon my pillow

And mourned your passing

Autumn’s leaves are turned to parchment

The grass is dead and brown

And at daybreak I awaken

Endure the pain afresh

And trudge wearily on

Small Moments

Celebrate

The small moments

A soaring hawk

Framed against azure skies

Ocean’s waves

Lapping on white sand shores

The smell

Of new-cut green grass

Rustling leaves

In a warm Autumn breeze

The muffled quiet

Of a winter night’s snowfall

For each

Is a moment

Of seeing

Hearing

Experiencing 

The “now” we are in

Of simply being

Living

Connecting

To the world around us

To our innermost soul

Live

In the small moments