A field of
Wildflowers is a
Beautiful sight all
Moving in unison
With the wind
Until someone picks
A few for
A bouquet on
A table top
Now that one
Of many becomes
A One of
Few brightening up
A room or
A person I
Feel as though
I’ve been picked
By you and
Now became a
Thing of beauty
Just for you
And far off
Behind the tree
Line Canadian geese
Honk preparing for
Flight now they
Approach like Mardi
Gras revelers in
Strategic formation swooping
Like Heaven’s angels
At the rapture
Now past everything
Returns to quiet
This Charlotte morn
And sometimes in
Life someone sees
More promise in
Us than we
See in ourselves
This is called
Hope be the
Acorn toppled from
Limb left to
Bury sleep and
Sprout turning into
It’s own oak
Giving shade to
Others worry not
About yourself for
Others will make
You into what
Whatever you were
Meant to be
Sometimes to them
Other times to
The entire world
Oh and like
That one star
That I spy
On the East
Horizon you lay
In your bed
Just as luminous
Hovering there it
Outshines the others
Giving definition to
The heavenly orbs
Just as you
Give definition to
The word friend
The end of
Something is never
Easy but is
Required to start
Something new we
Hear the oooo’s
And aahhh’s of
Autumn but never
The wish to
Be a leaf
For just one
More sweet day
