Near the park a block or so
from our house, it stands – a  golden tree,
its black spine and branches posing a stark contrast to the bright blue sky,
the shimmering yellow cascade. 

Walking to pick-up my children
from school one day, I pass under and look up – Glory! and down to the blanket
of orange and yellow, covering the sidewalk. 
I wade through with the stroller splitting the sea like Moses and when I
pass by on the way home, four kids in tow, I tell them, “Wait until you see,
the place with The Most Leaves.”

They’re doubtful, teasing,
until they see it. 

Then the older two are off and
running and the twins slip out of the double stroller like two slippery fish
returning to the sea.  Soon they’re all
splashing and diving, throwing up handfuls, gathering piles with rakes
improvised from sticks. 

And I am standing there,
wishing for a camera to capture it all. 

But these leaves are grace,
spread deep over the sidewalk and curb, laying light on the ground, like manna.  I resist the urge to gather up more than can be stored and instead join in on
the fun, the beauty, surrendering to the ocean of grace at our feet, the shimmering gold of the grace-filled present.

This post is linked with Five Minute Friday on the prompt “grace.”  Click over to read more posts.

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