9527. WONDER AND AWE

WONDER AND AWE

Each day it's wonder and awe for me,

so much so that I never know where

I'm going and never realize where I

end up. I should found my own church.

-

There are things that leave me speechless,

always churning around the bend. At any

point: the movie-house lettering, five birds

in the sky, a shadow, the back of that book.

-

I see ideas in a plate-glass window, and 

the wandering forms of an idle reflection. 

People's bent faces  -  and people's spent 

faces too. Those too old for the young 

and those too young for the old. Those 

coming, or going. The bought, or the

sold. Those coming again.

-

It's never over under those maple-tree eaves.

Those boughs and those branches are new,

every new leaf and bud I saw -  a perfect

mark to recollect, my wonder, my awe.