The Golden Garland

The breeze blows
rocking the branches.
Golden flowers shower on 
the earth that receives
and holds them gently
until the breeze sweeps them away.
They gather one by one
where the grass meets the curved sidewalk
weaving a golden garland
reminding me of this life,
a long curvy garland,
each moment, each breath,
a golden flower,
a gift.

Mamata Misra
Composed at Ft. Lauderdale, Florida during the MBSR Practicum, Spring 2016