A Colorful Mess
So often when I read poems about nature,
they paint pictures of sunrises or sunsets
or things that feel beautiful and romantic
or colorful and transformative.
But this morning I opened the door
just to catch the feel of the morning breeze
and what I saw was this colorful mess.
The leaves have all changed colors,
those beautiful fall colors
and they had blown up on the wheelchair ramp
and now I have this carpet of leaves
on this ramp which needs to be washed
and it looks like a colorful mess.
And I thought this is me.
I may look like I have it all together,
like I am positive and peaceful and calm
but inside there is this
whirlwind of activity
that tries to figure out
what is the frog I need to eat first,
and then next
and so forth
and so on
and it pieces all together
like the leaves on my ramp.
A colorful mess,
that is beautiful and blessed
ever changing and evolving.
It is a work in progress,
leaves are coming and going,
the breezes are rearranging
and like me my porch
is a colorful mess
that is constantly being transformed.
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