Leaves fall like tears on the season,

once again join with the good earth,

an age-old story to repeat the season,

coming to rest after providing their worth.

The lattice of fall has replaced the mantle of summer,

colors of red and yellow and umber unite,

meeting the frosty dawn which holds quite a bite.

I silently walk the painted trail through tiny shards of ice,

always a pleasure, never a price.

My steps are softened by a carpet of color,

their final task before going asunder.

Created to give life to us all,

the very breath I take,

I pay homage to their fall.

Each step taken displays my breath,

my life force revealed,

giving thanks to the leaves as they fall,

a job well-done, another chapter sealed.

Humble am I as I sit in nature’s lap,

a mere scribe with a pen,

grateful to describe my seasonal friend,

the tears of a season that slowly descend.

Evidence pools on the surface of the placid morning lake,

tales of the previous night’s activities.

The evening hatch has settled,

a hungry population below readies to take advantage of this special feast.

Bracing for a morning adventure,

a home crafted fly lands gracefully with presentation,

a perfect imitation of an already perfect creation.

The fisher has cast his knowledge and his gratitude upon the surface.

The disguise resting on the water is placed to tempt the rise,

producing an explosion fueled by instinct and power.

He finds himself wading in the life blood of the earth,

connected to the lake by hook and line.

No matter the outcome,

his cast holds anticipation and excitement.

It is not the fly that has caught the fish,

but the fish providing the fisherman a reason to smile,

filling his heart with respect.

He has blended nature into his creation,

the catch has paid homage to his efforts.

Mutual respect bonds them together,

when fish meets landing net.

As he holds in his hands this creature of the earth,

he records the moment in his memory,

knowing too that he is cradled by the hands of nature.

Fish On!!”

A bracing morning breeze held the twilight of the dawn,

with a thin layer of crystalline frost.

The pending day presented stratified colors through a prism of jet plumes,

bound for an early destination.

I stand at the precipice of another month’s journey,

reminiscing of the previous day’s past.

As another page in the calendar is turned,

thirty days have passed and I recall,

memories of each day, holding court in my thoughts.

Can the future embrace each waking moment,

hold wonder through the next thirty days?

This morning, I noticed a full moon reserved in the western sky,

I was reassured that the power within the light,

holds the brilliance of the future in the coming days.

Embrace the gift of each waking moment,

it holds the splendor and wonder of your next thought.