The Crown of Light

I apparently think it's enough to have a favourite tree

            in High Park

to stop and admire it whenever I pass,

            recognizing its seasonal changes.

That'll suffice, I seem to think,

            as my (urban) connection to the natural world.

 

And thus I miss almost every time

the crown of light that blesses

            the most ordinary tree top,

the neighbourhood hawk making its rounds,

the gradual leaf change from green

            to very bright red.

 

I need to rethink.

One favourite tree, no matter how graceful,

is just the tip of the iceberg.

I could be watching the light,

could be lifting my eyes to the mystery of clouds.

 

I will myself to be a lover of all light's gifts.

 

 

 

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