The first leaves loose their moorings, sailing gracefully from above.
Slowly, they spiral and slightly tilt.
Cast off from the tethers of elm or oak, pecan or maple, released in a brief and dazzling flight. Spread wide, kite-like, captured in a crosswind, they sweep back and forth.
Occasionally lifted by an updraft, tossed in a swirl of crimson, mustard, and bronze ultimately falling as gravity draws them ever downward. Destined to assemble as a mosaic, carpeting vast spaces.
In delight I revel in the glory of color cascading from the boughs and wonder at the bounty that has hung far overhead all summer long. Souls touched by such wonders whisper prayers, knowing the whole world is the house of God.
“ The whole world is the house of God…
I can stop …long enough to see where I am…
I can flag one more gate to heaven,
one more patch of ordinary earth with ladder marks on it,
where the divine traffic is heavy…
instead of walking right past it…
say a blessing before I move on to wherever I am due next.”
An Altar in the World, Barbara Taylor Brown
* * *
Linking with these communities of writers sharing thoughts on faith: Weekend Whispers, Still Saturday, Coffee for Your Heart