the weaving of trails


The leaf started at point A
and floated down the concrete creek
to a rock and a twig
hanging out at Point B.

One grackle flew over the busy street,
flew from Point C to Point D.
another grackle flew from Point D to halfway across the street
and back to point D. He flew near Point B
splashed his big black wings
in the shallow water.

A car crossed the intersection,
Point E to Point F.
and another came down the street toward me
Point F past Point D and on to Point G.

A little cloud slowly tooled across the sky
Point H to Point I
and crossed a branch
before my eyes -
Point J the crossing.

the weaving of tangled trails
of leaves and birds
people and clouds
whispered threads
of our existence this morning
like the strings of a cat's cradle
in my mind
a pulsing pattern
from points past
to points future
all of us blithely flowing
toward some common destination
some common creation