A Wayward Oak Leaf

Where did you come from

On this November morning

There are no oak trees in sight

Despite the name of the street

Oakridge Drive

And yet here you are

Nestled in the midst of my Peace Lily

Your colors called out

Begging me to stop and notice

It wasn’t difficult

Because you are beautiful

On this brand new November morning

I am always reflective on this day

Each year

All Saints Day

Early as the sun is barely visible

Or perhaps the clouds are gray

The colors around me

Seem subtle

Mirroring the ponderings

Going on in my heart

The memories

The thoughts of gifts

From those

Dear to my heart

Given to me out of love

Out of encouragement

Out of hope

These saints are gone from my sight

But I know that there is just a thin veil

Between here and there

Out of this moment

This chilly November morning

When the early light

Mutes the hues of creation

Your colors call out to me

Begging me to stop and notice

Reminding me 

That life still holds much beauty

Despite the pain and chaos

I never seem to forget

For a long time I notice you

A wayward oak leaf

Is that you I hear

Saying to me

All is not lost

C Alicia Randolph

November 2021 (Revised)