Will there be?

In far away scenes
Circling round like symbols
Will there be peace
In fall when leaves should fall
Like rice at weddings
Now turned to seed
To save the birds
With kindness.
Will they fall about me
Like stars from the wide open sky
And what sight will greet
On ocean nights filled
With silence but for the waves
Crashing down upon
My thoughts like mist
That used to greet
In New York mornings.
Will I find a place,
A shelf to rest my soul
As it becomes weary and perhaps lonely
For the familiar
Now so very far away,
Another place
Once called home,
And I gather about me
Spells and stones
And lift my words into the satchel
To be tossed about
On another day
In a place foreign
Where the mystic says
It is there it shall begin
As true as the numbers
And the whispered ghosts pushing
Invisible threads pulling
To spread the wings
And fly.

Thoughts on the soon/someday move out-of-state to the home by the sea. Praying for just as much peace to be found along the shore as I have found here in my many acre woods….adrift in thought….