Early one morning,
as I poured my coffee,
I glanced out the kitchen window
at the oak tree by the shop
to see a crispy brown leaf
spring from its limb,
gracefully tumbling down
the shingled roof, surely
executing
masterful gymnastics moves,
twisting, turning in mid-air
with perfect lift, finally
dismounting,
sticking the landing
in the tall grass
that awaits a final trim.
The other leaves on the ground
spontaneously started a wave.
Those still in the trees lithely clapped
their affirmation, patiently
waiting
on the next brave soul to let
go.
Thus the wind directs a hopeful
show;
each participant scored
on the scale of grace.
Who am I that I am afraid
of the Spirit's call to be blown
into the dance that is
the extraordinary routine
of my life?
© 2015 Todd Jenkins
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