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