Change[1]
Double-take;
Fire on woods’ edge?
No;
Yellow, orange leaves
Rippling in the wind;
Seasonal, Creational
Change fools my mind.
Fire-works;
Explosion in the sky?
No;
Ginger, carroty leaves
Shimmering in the tree;
July, October
Change brings my smile.
Aromatic;
Fragrance from the store?
No;
Fresh, cut fields
Wafting in the air;
Planting, Harvesting
Change rejoices my soul.
Mark Eckel 30 October 08
[1] Notice the seven lines per stanza, indicating perfection; the repetitious, reflective lines producing normalcy and order. The one word antithetic to the others (“store”) is in the last stanza, intending by its presence in a place it does not belong to show one need not go to a man-made situation to find aesthetic beauty. Each word is carefully chosen, allowing the comprehensive, coherent cosmos to speak (Genesis 2:1). The last line of each stanza is a warbling, human response: is there any adequacy in my words, my expression, my response?! The last word identifies the whole of me: an indefinable term to say what is incommunicable (“How does one talk about what one feels when he enjoys beauty?!”).