Category: Autumn 2024

Getting there is one thing.
The destination’s the main reason
for the journey after all.
But it’s not everything, and maybe
not even the most important.
When you reach it, another
will soon take its place. Always
there is more to see and do.
Maybe it’s the journey itself
that matters most, the times
you paused simply to look around,
to feel yourself being, alive,
savoring the company and the view.

Standing together, our roots woven
together in this soil, we pool
our individual dreams to form
a community uniquely our own,
shaping us, giving us strength
and meaning and shelter,
saying to the world, this
is what we stand for; this
is what we are—tall and upright,
reaching for the sky, even as
we nurture and shelter
the fragile growth below.
We sing our song in all seasons,
flying our banners proudly
and high. We are many;
we are one. We are Yes.

Stay awake. Take nothing for granted;
for nothing endures but for your having seen it.
This alone you take with you: the colors,
the fragrances, the tastes, the sounds,
the feel of the air caressing your skin,
the contrasts of light and shadow,
of finite earth and infinite sky.
You were sent to gather these moments,
to carry them back to the heart
of the Yes, from which you came.
You, with your unique capacities,
are the only one who can see it
and know it as you do. You are
the holy gatherers, the keepers
of the jeweled now. Stay awake;
gather with reverence and joy.

Fly, babies! Grab this wind and go!
You are the hope of butterflies,
the guarantor of their tomorrows.
Claim your spot on the soft earth,
and dream your milkweed dreams
the winter through. Dream how strong
your stem will be, how fragrant
your dusty-rose flowers. Imagine
the flaming wings of the Monarchs
as they return to you day after day
to feast on the nourishment that
you alone can provide. Then rise
from your dreams, sweet ones,
and live them. Fly, babies, fly.
Grab this wind and go.

The woods was still dark, its trees bare,
the previous night’s rain having washed
to the ground the bits of what had remained.
The revelry was over, the morning sun
only now rising on the sleeping scene.

Except for her scarlet song rolling
down the hillside through the night’s debris,
I might have missed her altogether,
there, at the crest of the hill, her leaves alone
shining red in the morning light. She sang
not to call attention to herself, but as one
lost in a reverie, or uttering a last, personal
benediction over all that she had witnessed here
since spring, humbled, perhaps, at the realization
that she got to be the final witness of it all.
Imagine that. The last one.

They don’t settle down right away.
Like children tucked into bed
after an exciting day, the trees
take some time to sink into silence.
First, they must whisper stories
to each other, to giggle and tease.
They must wiggle a bit and ease
themselves into just the right
position before the winter dreams
will come, floating in like clouds
on a snowy evening. But then,
what silence! And beneath it,
what stupendous dreams they dream

Look. Let your eyes find the poems.
A line here, a phrase there,
a surprise of gracefulness.
Be alert for the pattern, for the flow.
Leaves on a creek bed,
reflections on still waters,
a flight of swallows
against a dappled sky.
Love notes are everywhere.
Find them.

Surrender any notions of your own.
Instead, trust in the goodness of the Yes
unerringly to lead you. When it whispers,
be willing to follow its nudges, turning
when it says to turn, continuing on
when it says to keep on. Do not worry
that you will lose your way. That which
leads you to its treasures will
lead you safely home.

If you keep faith and follow
the whisperings of your heart,
‘though the day be dark
and swept with rain,
a moment will come
when the skies will open
and the Yes pour down
its light.

I give you the world as a mirror of your heart.
See in it what you will: The straight
or the crooked, the mountain or the valley,
fullness, or that which is barren, the sunlight
or the clouds. I give it all to you,
and beneath it, I sing my constant song.
Be at peace, child. You are known,
in all your moods and choosings,
and all that you are is loved.