Fractal grace…

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a misty dusk settles

over shiny ochre leaves

in my yard

the annual raking ritual

has cleared all but a few 

to their autumnal bed…

to compost 

.

the shrowded 

late November afternoon light 

shimmers against silhouetted tree

branches stripped

of their seasonal hue 

.

the still, musty air

holds a truth

whispered by leaves

fallen on loamy soil 

.

what is this mystical truth?

.

letting go

of what has been,

life

this year

embracing

beautiful decay,

that which is to come…

is good

.

the moment is…

mysterious,

peaceful 

—-

what mystery

is uncovered by this Event, 

this fractal moment of grace

in the rainy mist? 

.

is it also revealed 

in Derridian theo-poetics,

challenging the perceived construct?

the utopian System

that like Babel

must die

so that God

who cannot be contained

might be revealed

in mystery–

incarnation,

death,

resurrection 

.

like the solitary

remnant leaves

we cling to the tree

this season,

this form,

this revelation

and like Peter on the Mount of Transfiguration

we want to build a permanent dwelling

to hold on to something… 

.

…some meaning

that cannot be fixed

in human language

the weakness of God,

contained in the womb of Mary

Word made flesh

is deconstructed

on Roman cross

in empty tomb… 

.

the wet decaying leaves,

the glistening barren trees,

the cold, starless sky

guard this mystery…

that incarnate truth, like leaves

must fall,

decay

and be reborn 

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Filed under contemplation, ecology, poetry, postmodern, the sacred ordinary, theology