Too Soon

The woodland animals, even insects, were restless today
Cool air and sunshade-leaves spread over every limb and rock and path
They call me out to notice
To remind me this will all be gone in days
Will turn brown and dead and frozen

Standing Still

Every now and then life gets really weird. Things change that have always been the same. People move. Trade jobs. Retire. Get married. Go in the hospital.

You would think nature would be comforting. The same trees, streams, mountain peaks. But tree limbs break. Streams divert. Seasons blossom and die across the hillsides.

What is it all moving toward? I’d like to know in case I’d choose another direction. They say, to keep from getting taken by the river, you must paddle slower or faster than the current.

Yet sometimes I prefer to just, stand, still.