An Idealist's Wishlist

Do you appreciate
the world around you?
Or do you wish you did?

When you open the front door
and walk down your front steps,
do you let the autumn breeze
roll across your face willingly?
Does its chilled touch gently graze
your skin, and make want more?
Or do you zip your weathered jacket
a little bit higher, forgetting
everything else and walk on watching your feet?

Do the fallen leaves
that are picked and placed
by the wind, spinning in circles
remind you of the twisters and tornados
we hear about in the Midwest?
Or are the leaves on the ground
just there for you to step on?
Do the quite crackling sounds
let you know your ears still work?

Before you know it the leaves
will be gone and forgotten too.
Just as the wilted pink-purple petals
you forgot last month.
But the flowers will be back.
Everything comes back eventually.

Soon enough the cool autumn
breeze will fade, and our breath will be seen
as easily as your cold, rosy red cheeks at night.
The overcast skies will become too much for you.
I know I won’t see you again all winter long.
But you’ll be back. Something always brings you back.

I’ll wait out the snowstorms
So I will see you again next spring.
Roses, lilies, and orchids
bloomed and beaming—
I’ll sit with them waiting for you.

Take the step down your front porch,
take a seat with me.
It’s not a leap of faith.

I know we all wish change came
as easily as it does for the seasons,
but how will wishing bring you here?
Where has wishing ever gotten you?
I wish you would see that.

If the maple trees, rose bushes,
dog wood trees, and daffodils
all brave this world, so can you.
Who cares if you die,
everything else does too.