Kiss the shining face

Kiss the shining face,
Of a golden sunflower
Fly on the wind,
Of a butterfly’s wings
Drink from the dew,
Of the morning glory
See the faces of angels
In the gentle arms of the trees
Hear the songs of the running water
Over a bed of stones
Leaves rain on cloudless skies,
Winds play a symphony
Through the trees
While I sit under a maple with leaves of fire.
I close my eyes and hear squirrels
Dashing madly through the brush,
Storing away what they will soon forget…
Shadows dance as last sun spills around me,
And the day falls away.
I look up and smile at the winking sun,
And raise my hand, palm exposed, to feel
The kiss of each leaf in the breeze,
each shaft of light.
You ask “do the clouds change the sun?” and I whisper
To you, in this sacred place, “ no.”


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