yellow
a few remaining
sun-transparent leaves
free for the seeing
out my apartment window
the birch is quietly undressing
for winter
its skinny arms and hands
reaching to the sky
a day later
to catch oregon snowflakes
'be still'
the tree tells me
'and know that i am evidence
there is a magical Creator'
who is beauty
and wonder
and mystery
always giving
pleasure to our senses
the best in life is free
from our amazing 'Thee'
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem