More rain, more wind, colder, more
leaves have fallen, more light now
though the trees less shadowed.
There is an art to being seen through,
knowing when to discard what
blocked the light the way leaves do.
The trees themselves refuse the penetration
of light, but the leaves give over
to the revelation of falling and rising.
Which is a form of beauty, begs the
question: How can we be more
like leaves, like trees, the sun?
The implications staggering. . .
-Byron Hoot
