Everything Comes
Published in

Everything Comes


Twigs and dried leaves that sound

Autumnal cycles seldom found

Here where I see potted things only

I’ll come upon one

I can see one

Nature is many faced


Electrons are said to be

Profusely distributed under our skin

I’ll marvel at the nature in my earthly garment


But twigs I can imagine

How they break I cannot tell

But break they do with sound or not depending on the


I think I’d rather ponder quantum inner things

Than bear the guilt of broken twigs ignored

Of course there are these cycles

Either in picturesque

Walk scenes or landfills


A census of twigs

I see it

Perhaps I will go to the park

A nice fantasy

I cannot even go down the hall

My limit is the feel of water temperature

I will often ask for frozen water

Set beside me here

Exulting in the first cold flow

From the first melting



The circle is complete

For surely twigs

Are present in the reservoir from which

This water came

Electric transit merges twigs

With lapping drink

And as I feel the frigid flow

I’ll simply know

The twigs unseen are there

Along with access to driveways I’ve known

From whence I once reached destinations

Past St. Helens to forested cathedrals

Where a glorious twig I know resides

Giving not one hint of provenance

Regal in rest

I haven’t stirred an inch but I have felt

The wonder

And reached down to pick it up



Get the Medium app

A button that says 'Download on the App Store', and if clicked it will lead you to the iOS App store
A button that says 'Get it on, Google Play', and if clicked it will lead you to the Google Play store
Stephen C. Rose

steverose@gmail.com I am 86 and remain active on Twitter and Medium. I have lots of writings on Kindle modestly priced and KU enabled. We live on!