Whispers of Readiness

So friends and family,

This is a playful meditation on autumn – the fading of summer, the coming of winter, and the way the seasons stir reflection. It carries a little nostalgia, offered here for you to sit with and share as you wish.

Yet I,

Must I?

Why?

The whisper returns in season’s turn.

Perhaps stirred by the not-chill in the air,

Or could it be the rust-dusted, yellowed leaves

That sparked this turn in phrase and reflection?

Musings lie low, rooted in the ground,

Threads of thought pulled taut and strong.

They meet the long reach of memory,

The tension between the ancient and the new.

The breeze stirs it in me – the change.

The smell of fall opens avenues for reflection.

Another summer threads itself through memory,

Now woven with streamers of autumn’s arrival.

A cool chill permeates my shoulders at rest,

While the lateness of years records itself in me.

The voice that does not thunder still whispers “readiness” –

In season and out, giving the best of our days to love.

As our seasons change and turn toward winter,

We find our hope and refuge for the bitingly cold days.

That time has come again, I am convinced,

Even though its edges have not fully surfaced.

Still it rises like an icy breath at dawn

As months dissolve into autumn.

And the changed awaken,

Wombs of wisdom partaking in Life.