Holding Beauty

The ground beneath me sends a chill up my spine,
reminding me of the changing seasons.
Yet the grass is lively and green…
Still, we live in this sacred in-between.

My fellow adventurers, Willow and Bandit,
explore the yard like pilgrims finally arriving home.
Willow rolls in the joy that lights up her eyes
and in the remnants of leaves
that once danced in the sky.
Bandit waters every corner of the yard,
marking this treasured land of his kingdom.

My first inhale,
hands in the cool grass,
awakens me once again to life.

I gaze up at the wildflowers and sunflowers,
with both yesterdays and tomorrows
swaying in the soft fall breeze.

Some bloom fierce and full,
others bow in their ending ...
each one once planted in sorrow.

And still, this garden lives,
whole and holy,
in the sacred in-between.

The bees, the moths,
and I just know that’s the same butterfly
that was here last week.
He doesn’t rush off
at even the softest whisper of my presence.
No… he’s brave, rebellious,
and takes a chance on love.

Then, when the shutter clicks,
he’s forever immortalized ...
a portrait of my heart
at this precious moment in time.

On the opposite side,
a dozen songbirds play around the feeder.
I feel a quiet joy as I think - 
they haven’t all left yet.
Perhaps, too captivated by their song,
time simply slipped away.

And then ... oh! 
they are looking for food!
I rush inside to get more,
only to find the feeder still half full.

I stop and watch for a while,
seeing them play and flutter away,
only to return again,
expressing their joy with open wings.

Bandit and I exchange his kisses
for my scratches, 
Willow stops for kisses
after each lap of her heart.

And I… once again,
hold beauty in the palm of my hands,
in this sacred in-between.