Sunday Morning
Five Years Later

From my bedroom window
I watch the leaves dance
in the wind
bound by bough
and branch
tangible tributaries to
spread imaginary joy
in the invisible wind

Virtual wishing -
I long to be light
like the leaves…
and moved
as by the wind
But here I sit
and constrained
with beliefs that bind
waiting to be released
by an invisible God
who moves
not unlike the wind


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