Friday, June 24, 2005

The Magic of Leaves

June 24, 2005
7:30 PM

Alone at the reservoir.

There’s that light
playing in the leaves again.

I suppose it has nothing better to do
than laze about the greens,
making what was dull, translucent,
full of radiance.

Leaves are magical...

But only when the light
hits them just so,
or the wind blows through and opens
possibilities of voice and music.

The magic of leaves
lies in their response to light,
their obedience to the wind...

And most of all,
in the perception of one
who finds eternity
in every little thing.

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George MacDonald

"Home is ever so far away in the palm of your hand, and how to get there it is of no use to tell you. But you will get there; you must get there; you have to get there. Everybody who is not at home, has to go home."

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