Awesome Autumn...
I love autumn, with its sparkling colors and colder weather...as
the world gives one last incredible hurrah of brilliance prior to
settling into the stark, hibernating bareness of winter. For me,
it is also a time of reflection...a season when I think deeply about
life and living, about making the daily journey. And so today, on
this fourteenth day of October, I am sharing with you some of
my autumnal poetry...reflections which have emerged from the
deep inner places where my hope resides. My wish is that some
of my words may speak to you, heart-to-heart, mind-to-mind,
person-to-person.
autumn
In the autumn,
life readies itself to sleep,
to rest and re-form,
to lie in fallow peace for
a few short months
until spring again calls
out in gleeful abandon
and life unburies itself.
Autumn is floating leaves,
full of color, creating noisy
confetti underfoot...crisp,
clean air punctuated by the
chattering of busy squirrels,
by the songs of birds seeking
seeds and grasses amidst
the diminishing insect stocks.
Autumn is solitude and
community, color and a
foreshadowing of the stark
bareness of winter, a season
of transition, a reminder of life's
impermanence-
today, I breathe autumn.
and so the day begins...
And so the day begins to unfold...
sun still shyly hiding behind the
horizon, but morning birds
offering their encouragement,
inviting the dawn.
Blue-gray sky filters through
the branches of the Japanese
maple, not yet embarked on her
autumnal journey of transformation
and final disrobing- yet she waits in
quiet, noble patience for her colorful
coronation...her upheld arms a playground
for cavorting squirrels, a haven for
singing birds.
Ah, to so patiently accept whatever
life sends my way- and yet so willingly
participate in my own transformation,
to accept and welcome the intermittent winds,
the falling rains, the caress of sun and
moon, the loving gaze of stars, certain
that all of it is part of what it means
to live my life.
words...
Words hang heavy in the
air just above my head, just
out of reach, not yet able-
or willing- to find their way
to pen and paper, floating
instead like cartoon conversation
in a bubble...
unspoken
unwritten
unformed-
yet the product of
deep thought, deeper
emotion.
Perhaps if I am patient,
if I sit still and quiet for long
enough, the bubble will burst
and all the true and lovely
words will land on this blank
page to reach to those I love,
to those in pain, to those who
wait for words of love and hope
to send them on their way
for one more day.
we are...
No longer young;
No longer even middle-aged, if truth be told,
But not yet old- not really-
For enthusiasm for life's gifts and mysteries remains
Strong as ever, even stronger,
Enriched so deeply by the experiences
And wisdom only age supplies.
So what do we call ourselves,
We sixty-somethings, seventy-somethings,
Who relish and savor life,
Who seek to live it to the full,
Our less-than-perfect bodies,
Lined faces, and graying heads
Housing- as they do- eager hearts,
Daring dreams, expectant spirits,
Living out the glorious, golden autumn
Of our lives, knowing winter is
Not far behind when, stripped to
the bone, we will welcome our time of rest,
Reflection, and respite with
Open, loving, thankful arms.
keeping informed
We are drowning in information.
On-line blogs proliferate
exponentially, each calling out
for our attention, each purporting
to supply information, but in actuality,
purveying opinion- one person's opinion.
And all the while, we tread water,
frantically attempting to keep our heads
above the rising tide of words which
threatens to drown us, seeking
frenetically for the life raft of real
knowledge, of truth, which can enlarge
and enrich our worldview, and bring us
to new and different shores.
it's called paradox...
What happens when one part
of the brain agrees with
something read or said
while another part cries out
in vehement denial? when
something rings both true
and false simultaneously?
when head nods in assent
while heart digs in its heels
as something feels out-of-sync?
And, if we're honest,
isn't much of life spent in
this schizophrenic place of
knowing and not knowing,
of certainty accompanied
closely by doubt, while truth
fades from stark black & white
to many shades of gray?
the world gives one last incredible hurrah of brilliance prior to
settling into the stark, hibernating bareness of winter. For me,
it is also a time of reflection...a season when I think deeply about
life and living, about making the daily journey. And so today, on
this fourteenth day of October, I am sharing with you some of
my autumnal poetry...reflections which have emerged from the
deep inner places where my hope resides. My wish is that some
of my words may speak to you, heart-to-heart, mind-to-mind,
person-to-person.
In the autumn,
life readies itself to sleep,
to rest and re-form,
to lie in fallow peace for
a few short months
until spring again calls
out in gleeful abandon
and life unburies itself.
Autumn is floating leaves,
full of color, creating noisy
confetti underfoot...crisp,
clean air punctuated by the
chattering of busy squirrels,
by the songs of birds seeking
seeds and grasses amidst
the diminishing insect stocks.
Autumn is solitude and
community, color and a
foreshadowing of the stark
bareness of winter, a season
of transition, a reminder of life's
impermanence-
today, I breathe autumn.
and so the day begins...
And so the day begins to unfold...
sun still shyly hiding behind the
horizon, but morning birds
offering their encouragement,
inviting the dawn.
Blue-gray sky filters through
the branches of the Japanese
maple, not yet embarked on her
autumnal journey of transformation
and final disrobing- yet she waits in
quiet, noble patience for her colorful
coronation...her upheld arms a playground
for cavorting squirrels, a haven for
singing birds.
Ah, to so patiently accept whatever
life sends my way- and yet so willingly
participate in my own transformation,
to accept and welcome the intermittent winds,
the falling rains, the caress of sun and
moon, the loving gaze of stars, certain
that all of it is part of what it means
to live my life.
Words hang heavy in the
air just above my head, just
out of reach, not yet able-
or willing- to find their way
to pen and paper, floating
instead like cartoon conversation
in a bubble...
unspoken
unwritten
unformed-
yet the product of
deep thought, deeper
emotion.
Perhaps if I am patient,
if I sit still and quiet for long
enough, the bubble will burst
and all the true and lovely
words will land on this blank
page to reach to those I love,
to those in pain, to those who
wait for words of love and hope
to send them on their way
for one more day.
we are...
No longer young;
No longer even middle-aged, if truth be told,
But not yet old- not really-
For enthusiasm for life's gifts and mysteries remains
Strong as ever, even stronger,
Enriched so deeply by the experiences
And wisdom only age supplies.
So what do we call ourselves,
We sixty-somethings, seventy-somethings,
Who relish and savor life,
Who seek to live it to the full,
Our less-than-perfect bodies,
Lined faces, and graying heads
Housing- as they do- eager hearts,
Daring dreams, expectant spirits,
Living out the glorious, golden autumn
Of our lives, knowing winter is
Not far behind when, stripped to
the bone, we will welcome our time of rest,
Reflection, and respite with
Open, loving, thankful arms.
We are drowning in information.
On-line blogs proliferate
exponentially, each calling out
for our attention, each purporting
to supply information, but in actuality,
purveying opinion- one person's opinion.
And all the while, we tread water,
frantically attempting to keep our heads
above the rising tide of words which
threatens to drown us, seeking
frenetically for the life raft of real
knowledge, of truth, which can enlarge
and enrich our worldview, and bring us
to new and different shores.
it's called paradox...
What happens when one part
of the brain agrees with
something read or said
while another part cries out
in vehement denial? when
something rings both true
and false simultaneously?
when head nods in assent
while heart digs in its heels
as something feels out-of-sync?
And, if we're honest,
isn't much of life spent in
this schizophrenic place of
knowing and not knowing,
of certainty accompanied
closely by doubt, while truth
fades from stark black & white
to many shades of gray?
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