I went to gather dry stalks of corn
amid October’s harvest
and found myself reborn
The wind blew gently from the West
overhead geese sounded the alarm
when I stepped upon the crest
And in the distance I saw a barn
in red and white relief
the sign of a nearby farm
Surrounded by oak and maple trees
once young now many rings old
releasing burnt umber leaves
Set free by wind frost cold
dance in the golden sun
agains the purple clouds rolled
For a moment All was One
Glimpses of Glory 