arching out from
the tip of a twig,
on winged samaras,
future seeds wait;
small packets of hope
suspended within
this tranquil moment.
dangling here,
collecting light,
this profusion of life,
bursting like pink fireworks,
this performance of maples,
a small act within
this repeated play,
where God is
producing and directing
the extravagance of spring.
squinting, I see
pairs of wings,
clusters of angels,
ready to dance
in the next
breath of a breeze.
Red Maple - Acer rubrum
Photo Location: Mom's Farm