Saturday, September 22, 2012

BRINK OF AUTUMN

LEAF CHANGE. So early do schools start in Indiana, late September feels like we are deep into the season instead of at autumn's onset. I love the spirituality of fall, which is what I try to describe in this poem. Change is occurring, ready or not. Better to turn and face its in-gathering and soul-baring possibilities. Autumn invites us to an experience of grace. Live it to the full. 

On the brink of autumn,
a hint of chill in the air,
the sun’s setting sooner,
in a few days we’ll be there

where green turns to golden
and reapers harvest the yield,
where dry leaves are falling
and flocking fowl arc the fields.

Then we’ll don our jackets
and brace ourselves for the wind
that rustles through branches
and billows our souls again.

Do not shrink back from fall;
embrace this gilded season
as a grace that descends;
a gift to all from heaven.

It’s time for returning,
for in-bringing and burning,
for heart walks in deep woods,
for distilling, discerning.

What’s muddled becomes clear
and all chaff is left exposed
as autumn’s sun glows bright
and a harvest moon shines cold.

We may shed pretenses
and travel a lighter way
our hearts as crisp as leaves
that lift and then sail away.

As we are being turned,
turn—facing all the changes,
the falling, the cooling,
and the encroaching darkness.

Lean into the season
lest it overtake your way.
let your soul be opened;
relish its gift this fall day.

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