The world seems bleak, brown and gray,
at first glance, but beneath the maples,
the vinca is evergreen.
Sycamore leaves and seed balls (achemes) fall,
Buckwheat seeds cling to delicate stalks,
and a few last grape leaves
cling to the vines.
Milkweed seeds catch the wind and sail away.
A few radish blossoms open gently,
pushing back against the chill.
A few dying leaves cling to the young plum trees
in the northeast corner of the garden,
while elsewhere buds are forming for next year's leaves.
In the garden, all is calm. The air is still.
We match our pace to the breath of the earth,
moving slowly and quietly
across the still-green grass.
Take a deep breath,
and when you exhale,
let your wishes take flight
in these last days of November.
Where ever you are, whatever the weather, I wish you peace.