For God alone, O my soul, wait in silence, for my hope is from him.
Psalm 62:5
My soul is still
as late October’s
moon glows above
fingered bare branches.
My heart is chilled,
as Autumn clings
tightly to daylight.
My mind wanders
as darken cornfields
laden with shadows
twist, trembling their
fibrous dried stalks.
Leaves are pooled,
patched, puddled on
earthen ground.
Morning frost kisses
blades of grass, which
convert to brown.
Yet, hope comes from
chattering oaks dancing
in November’s sun.
My soul is still…
Patti Wolf 