Monday, October 17, 2011
The season has changed and we are into Fall and not far behind will be Winter, cold and snow. It is the way of the midwest and if you live here you ready yourself to let go of the warmth that summer brings...or you move.
Letting go...it seems that is a word rattling around in my head and heart a lot the past few years. Letting go of anger and disappointment, letting go of some people - not always by choice. Just letting go.
Hopefully letting go of one thing opens my arms to embrace something else. That is what I am hoping for in the coming season.
Sitting in the sanctuary of my patio recently, I wrote this piece. I shared it at a couple recent open mics and it was well received. Hope you enjoy.
The leaves are falling
Colors changing, the green leaving, replaced with orange and gold
I watch them as they drop from the trees
Just a few at first, then they fall in great waves
But before coming to rest on the ground
They dance upon the air
Some twirl and swoop
Others flutter and pause
They stop in mid air, just floating, floating
Enjoying the journey, seeming to say “whee, I am flying!”
There are some brave ones that hang on and wait for a strong wind
And as it catches them they fly high into the air before they give up the ghost and rest on the ground
Falling further than they would have
Had they just released when there was less turbulence
Or maybe, they are not brave at all, but hold on past their time, afraid of the fall
And the wind leaves them no choice and says “its your turn"
However they fall, fall they will and I love the dance as they go
It reminds me of a snow shower as they flutter by, so many at once
But instead of a cold wet kiss they bring a sweet scent as they brush past you
And all the falls of years gone by are stirred inside me and I close my eyes to embrace it
The sight of the turning leaves brings comfort and sadness
Comfort in the beauty and sadness in knowing the season of warmth is coming to an end
Soon the falling leaves give way to falling snow
And all that is left of autumn are bare branches
Branches that reach to the sky in surrender
Dark, bare, exposed – no cover to warm them
They are at the mercy of the season and I identify
Some seasons are dry and cold and you pray for the change
For now, I will just enjoy the dance