optical illusion harvest moon graces the early evening as it rises fat, glowing a fake-orange,
surreal in its massive shocking presence at the end of the long narrow two-lane
road bisects solid rich soil, spread out for miles in squares and rectangles
four walls of a new home
bounded on the north by citrus trees
sweetened on the south by roses - red, peach, and a stunning dark hot pink
edged in the east by strands of colored sunrise behind huge Fir's boughs, ageless trunk
horizontal stripes in the west, moving west - soil, patio cement, grass, landscaping bark, new raw wood fence
three-blankets worth of chilly at night, still-barely shorts weather for a few hours at midday
young trick-or-treaters in bright clever costumes politely reach into the basket of goodies
their parents neighborly offering introductions and welcomes to the community
below a sky deep periwinkle blue, a horizon broader than my peripheral vision
eyes that practice seeing beauty and lessons even in the scurrying nighttime invaders
challenging my call to openness and communion with all beings
a fact I sometimes try to deny but which is irrevocably and unchangeably true at its very core...
so leading with my heart instead of my head, I move forward not toward the future
but deeper into now
