The Magpie and the Sycamore Leaf Attracta Fahy

The Magpie and the Sycamore Leaf

From my kitchen window a long black finger flicks up and down over the eve shoot,

balancing its dark belly a magpie pierces its beak into dead leaves, tosses them into the air, they scatter, fall in a flutter, past the glass in a dance of colour, yellow, sienna, umber

without a sound down onto the ground down in total surrender.

One gold sycamore leaf splayed on my path and I hear the words of Kabir; God is the breath inside the breath.

Attracta Fahy