Let the love of your Holy Spirit be in our hearts:
so that we may consecrate this day to you.
The trees are simmering their cinnamons,
burnt-umbers, ocher-siennas, and ruby hues
like ciders of mystics.
They are singing like folds of air
through hollow reeds.
They are disheveled contemplatives
in deep prayer.
They are shedding their joy
they will soon become the fire
settling into the dark
They have become, for the hours,
the shimmering way
and to die.