Here is a day,
dawn to dark,
a string of moments small enough to
ignore or notice,
a stretch of time
between awakening
and sleep to be
savored, or brushed
aside in the rush
to some distant
destination. Here
is a day, different
from any other,
with its own flavor
to be tasted. The
golden glow just
before the sun
rose held such
promises as I
knew must be kept –
knew beyond even
the nagging whisper
of doubt were true –
that this very day
the whole perfection
of the universe can
be inhaled like the
scent of fallen leaves,
the heady fragrance
of trees returning what
was never theirs to keep.
Danna Faulds
This poem was shared in my yoga class on Saturday morning and I thought it was so perfect for this time of year. I love the soft light of these Autumn days and the vibrancy of orange leaves that cling on so delicately to their homes before drifting to the ground. Xx
I read Bruce Chatwin’s classic book 
The Poppy Files 