I stood there as silence gripped her,
Wind bringing in periodic rupture.
Looking down was the dome above,
In the green light basked many a dove.
A touch of brown here and there,
Flaunted the beauty not so rare.
I had never seen in such a way,
The daily unusual until that day.
Sound of dripping water, was it?
Or the falling flowers taking a hit?
Flew away some leaves worn out,
And new ones would grow, no doubt.
The smell familiar and the radiant glow,
I wished time would be a bit slow.
As if she was looking me over,
Shutting out the clouds that hover.
Although sensing all that I dreaded,
The canvas of mind all so faded.
Her hands reached out asking me,
‘Trust the branches that set many free.’
Silence accompanied as I held on,
Suddenly ‘Oh’, the grip was gone.
I woke up fearing I would die,
‘I’ve got you, son,’ she didn’t lie.
Image by Rene Rauschenberger