In the silence that is autumn,
a small voice, barely heard
‘neath a fading summer phlox,
still sings in my garden the songs
of the seasons ahead, songs of hope
and of life, songs of peace, songs
of love.
Just some ramblings - a little poetry, some Creative Non-fiction, a picture of two - from Lake Hebron as I sit here on the front porch, staring across the water, listening to the loons, and enjoying the life of a retired English teacher. And please, leave me a comment, a note, tell me how much you loved -- or hated -- my writing, what it made you think of, made you feel, for it is poetry, meant to invoke in you what it is we share in common, what it is that makes us human.
In the silence that is autumn,
a small voice, barely heard
‘neath a fading summer phlox,
still sings in my garden the songs
of the seasons ahead, songs of hope
and of life, songs of peace, songs
of love.
The leaves that blanket my yard
have turned it into a quilt of
varied colors,
patterns, a tapestry of tales from
other autumns
carried down through the years to
today;
and what stories would you share
to make us smile and lighten our
days
in this time signifying dormancy
and loss,
as we wrap the covers around us to
stay warm,
safely held together by the
memories we hold
and the stories we share?
The young ones are still here,
grown
from their nests over the summer
months
into newly fledged juveniles
preparing to leave,
their wings newly tested and ready
for the journey
following the routes and instincts
of their parents,
bound for the coast; we will mourn
their eerie cries
missing from our winter lives,
snowbound here,
replaced by silence and the low
moans
carried by the winds howling at our
door.
My new-found companion and I have begun
our fated journey, melded one to
the other,
following the signs and symptoms of
blood and bone
to that journey’s end, an
indeterminate finality,
a journey we must take together,
friends or foes,
ready or not, to its end; only
then, will the fates release us
as they joined us, restored,
renewed, and a new journey
beginning, a yet unknown journey
you cannot take –
you must take your own journey,
each of you, each of us –
so wish us well, and yourself, safe
travels, wishes
for the wind at your back, the
sun on your face, soft rain,
and God to hold you in his palm,
until we meet again;
may our journeys by fruitful and
safe.