Lines Bestowed

I love how all these leaves flutter and hover,
held fast by a moment in which the next moment
has already asserted the limitation of the time of holding,
of hovering aflutter as all that lies on ground cluttering earthsongs
once was held a few yards up ‘tween earth and sky
and how we are all right here uttering without much regard
for the brevity of the time or the lines bestowed on our minds…
the power to transform our bullshit and make meaning before we,
too,
fall to ground, joining an ancient chorus of ancestral rhyme,
a rhythm unrelenting, calling us all
to love,
to grow.