Autumn Sunrise

Picture silent beauty of the fallen

cascades over night in morning’s fresh dew

Would we lives would suspend among such few

swept in a seasonal breeze unspoken

 

While lives do merit certain ambience

having understood time in element

sweet farewell of arid temperament

with knowledge shelter a vortex of chance

 

In morning humanity know each day

means a spiritual guide wills a solace

swift is the timing of fortunate Grace

will soon a blossoming might lead our way

 

Demands seek urgency’s mortality

Cycle of life bestow such is beauty

Winter Winds

Cool air

soaking in the forest quiet nearby

we know it waits

we realize our lives will need warmth,

we are readily restored by a the sharp brace

of winter winds

makes us feel alive again.

A society relies upon the changing seasons to market their lives,

where else would we find ourselves planning for the latest fashion

without the guarantee …

temperature is dropping.

I get a little nervous sometimes when reminded

of that part of nature I don’t understand,

beyond the shelter of my walls,

well past the peace of a kindling fire,

I want to know more about the friend who is suffering,

yet, I’d rather not,

if I just look the other way,

well then,

it didn’t really happen did it.

Unless I turn on the news,

there are constant reminders

of a cool air well beyond the concept of our dreams.

A society exists with every interaction,

we can decide to associate

or simply get involved in the smallest manner possible.

We choose a limitless supply of polite escape.

~

When the winds do arrive I will notice as much as I hope you do too,

we are the same as we were when in the heat of a tropical sunlight

we could smile.

Whisper Autumn

While skies begin a stretch of cooler winds

body seeming to recognize limits

each stepping stone, virtual time rescinds

calculate further storm than time admits.

~

A child witness color – aging leaves

headstrong emotions tacked upon crackles

like a midnight fire sparks ember heaves

slow to respond yet beauty sheds shackles.

~

Perhaps a few more days together walks

a couple in a distance twinkling lights

certain ambience listens, cadenced clocks

strike hours, minutes, gathering delights.

~

Shadows interact well the wintry skies.

Spiritual songs sound sweet mating cries.

Wish You Were Here

I wish now, I knew then, the importance of walks.

The steps always seemed so burdensome,

oh to just use automation instead of tireless journeys.

I would walk with you, knowing I would follow you anywhere,

just the two of us, together,

yet I’ve never really understood,

until just today,

when the smells of fall weather

remind me of every year,

you would speak to me alone,

just the two of us,

together strolling to school.

you’d say,

‘oh can you smell the air, thommy’

I could, the soil, the rotting leaves, the signs of summer

over,

yet you would have a smile,

I would always see it there,

as then you would again,

explain,

how you loved this time of year,

the onset of the autumn winds,

the cool temperatures,

the luxurious warmth of a well worn sweater,

the sexy nature of life in the seasons.

‘I can almost smell the cafeteria food’

My favorite time of year,

to be,

a teacher …

The Door is Open

How remarkable to imagine

another period of our lives

measured in time, in knowledge,

in hopes, in tribulations, in grief,

in discovery, in coming of age,

the doors are opening

all across the horizon,

in each avenue of growth,

in every challenge to our passion.

the doors are opening

to allow minds to become alert

to a world that begins with their eyes,

while guided by principles we offer

in humble contrast to our own

quiet ignorance with allowance.

the doors are opening,

and in walk our lives

as a young child or old messenger,

we each might enjoy the bounty

we offer one another in peace.

the doors are opening,

let’s welcome the stroll.

Wild Skies

Feel life brisk

High pressure settle in

Crisp, autumn morning

With blasts

Draping serious skies

Winter’s scorn is upon us all

A heaviness basks in air

Time now

Time asks for preparation

Nestling

When once we were alone …

~

Quiet morning  sun piques behind

Wandering winds

Haunting as the settling sky

Corrals summer’s eve

While we wait upon

A long and slow March

The dusty road turns cold …

~

The winds of autumn reckoning

Each season’s sweet serenity

autumn