the cricket 

played percussion all night 


never missing a beat. 

the wind arrived inconsistently, 

strong waves of air 

shouting their force, 

but only for a moment, 

followed by a lighter, longer 

push through the darkness. 

we visited dillard georgia, 

resting but awake, 

listening and aware, 

pondering portions of nature

as a sabbath. 

i wrote inside, then walked 

into the wind, the hills, 

while rain waited 

long enough and allowed 

me a view of the autumn 

colors smiling back. 

with friends, talking and eating 

and observing reverence, 

amid admiration and astonishment, 

on days of rain and wind 

and interest, enjoying 

the seldom offered 

time to play or stare 

or walk or rest. 

i felt held by Large Hands. 

i felt near a Soft Heart. 

i felt covered by a Tower. 

i felt loved by Love. 

composing a credence, 

observing with reliance,

staring at autumn’s show:

the changing of colors,

the falling of leaves, 

the wearing of a coat. 

habits were shifting, slightly. 

my normal 

time and place and sequence 

changed like weather into 

my new 

climate. internally and externally 

together, in time, in place. 

large meals.

loud laughs. 

stories and more stories. 

their stories and our stories.

place. time. together.