the merciful silken blue was sky,
and the sweet and floral flavors of gold and rust were leaves
scattered on the sidewalk. someone making cider with cinnamon
and fresh apples perfumed the entire world with the scent of
life-affirming air. simple rhymes sang
of tiny bodhisattvas with chalk and jump ropes while south
reeled in geese, their enthusiasm honking acute triangles above,
below, all around. nude oaks and plump squirrels
like plush children’s toys bled tranquility
into those that passed them by. the cartoonish
lines separating egos and the people they owned from
being dissolved, and existing, they stopped. they melted
the cool fall breeze into a flood of loving dirt, living
wood, breathing atmosphere, sleeping grass, beings
indistinguishable from one another. and in that timeless, endless
moment, All Things witnessed All Things as One,
and in a single voice, sighed a great and lasting peace.