When the aspens are gold, the brown mallard wings the southern sky
The hills hold red maples waiting in the wind for snow.
Against this season, this theater backdrop as it were
Comes a quiet knowing– all things
Star moon lake stone
Plant human being simply want to be– the knowledge is old, the knowing new
As if the universal mind opened to show what is always there.
I know it must be honored, held as a child in my arms, allowed to grow
it is good, wisdom is the good we need.
It is nature without rest and not time, nor war, nor death can end it–
At the edge of the wood I set a plate of fish and hide. Four feral cats step out.
Three begin to feed, one looks around keeping watch with a very wary eye.