Category: Autumn 2024

By spring, I will, I know,
be longing for a broader pallet,
one drenched in greens and pastels.
But today, November is painted
in her range of neutrals beneath
this blue and lavender sky, and I
find that my eye is pleased
at the soft, stark subtlety
of it all, her hues looking like
the pelt of some wild animal
stretched across the rolling hills.

As if a curtain lifted to reveal
a grand new setting for the next act
of the play, the field had been transformed.
Gone were the gold and crimson hills.
Gone the goldenrod. In their place,
a wonderland stands, the pale, bare limbs
of the sycamore dancing with the last leaves
of the russet oaks below the dark hills.
And at their feet, acres of goldenrod,
white now and as fluffy as snow,
spread to the field’s edge,
a sneak preview of things to come.
We walk through the billowing stalks, laughing,
and Betsy says they look like hats
that elves would wear.

I hadn’t walked by the creek with a dog
in a very long time. But today,
one came along and reminded me
what they know: Immediacy.
That’s it. No labels. None of this
“grass” “leaf” “creek” “tree” stuff.
And forget judgments, about caring
whether it’s hot or cold, hard or soft,
dry or wet. It’s all motion, all
a gigantic shifting of ever-delicious
data pouring in through mouth,
eyes, ears, nose, feet, skin, hair.
Every bit of it your favorite.
Every bit of it singing your name.

Blessed are we when we have a companion
who lingers by our sides as we travel our days,
someone whose heart holds our own gently,
who flows with our moods without judgment,
who understands our thoughts and ways,
someone who makes the days of peace
more lovely, and the days of darkness
easier to bear, who lends strength
when we are weak, and who applauds
us when we’re strong, someone whose
smile is warmer than sunshine, and whose
love lets us know that our life is worthwhile.

Even though the storm clouds
are heavy and dark, light streams down.
Even though we are frightened
and confused, grace surrounds.
Look up; look within. Let illusion
dissolve. Beyond and beneath you,
truth broadcasts its word.
Even though there is darkness,
love rains down.

Expanding across the vast sky, trails
veil its blue, send the sun’s light back
into space, as if that were a cure,
laughing in disdain at those who argue otherwise.

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.