The Treasure of Everyday Stuff

The small grove of trees leans into a collective huddle like Biblical women gathered at the well. One wears a jacket of gold while another dons a cape of dark green pine needles. A third brazenly exposes her shapely limbs, almost naked now in the brilliant November morning. Perfectly positioned in the crook of a bare branch, a full moon stamps her pale watermark in the deep blue sky.
I can feel my heart swell and throat tighten. A nameless power commands a halt to my walk. As I gaze at the autumnal splendor on my neighborhood street I wonder at the number of times I pass such landscapes and fail to marvel at the enormous genius of such simple beauty.
The potential of life ending gives birth to a keen awareness of the plain. The everyday. The stuff we take for granted...like trees and a full moon. Partnered with such awe comes a clear sense of the divine even though I don't know what to call that divinity. God? Goddess? Creator? The name doesn't seem to matter--only the holiness. The beauty. The gift of life and the opportunity to treasure one more walk. One more time.