Pause For Poetry:
Michael Hawkes /96

In The Beginning Were Leaves

September 25, 2025

A poem by Michael Hawkes

On a quiet morning
The air is still and little stirs
Except the squirrels twitching
And the pairing of the birds,

I sit silent in a golden shower
And imagine leaves as words.

It’s quiet enough to hear the sound
That leaves make when they land.
The ground and everything around
Is blanketed with spoken words.

A latent library, patently,
Languishing, expectantly,
Each curled crisp cipher
A key character in the mystery.

Each icon wafting from above
Is in accordance with the next,
Each radiant with meaning
Contributing to the text

To form a deep deposit
Of fundamental truths
That tell of universal cycles
Of which tree leaves are the proofs.

Now, as I shuffle through them
My movement leaves a wake…
A sussurating in the silence
Perhaps a prayer for someone’s sake.

27/10/22

Feature image: Valentin S – Pexels

Other poetry, essays and short stories
Other recent articles