Driving through

morning’s round of drop-offs

the radio
tells of man

hunting man

and I watch
as magnolia trees

drop great
showers of

blushing blooms.

Spring is
the foolish season

whose beauty
we cannot long endure

so the
trees, in their gracefulness,

weep their
soft and silent petals

knowing we’ll need their leafy shade

to hide us
from the searing sun.

So much
beauty falling on the silent earth,

so much beauty

Sustainable Spirituality

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