Thursday, October 20, 2022

Where Autumn is Life's Sister...



This morning I asked Victoria to take a picture as a keepsake of the sacred commonplace...






Of countless times in our 34 years of marriage,
Jim realizing, he could arrange his route to come by the house
to grab a coffee and breakfast sandwich etc.
giving me a heads-up call when he is almost here so he can just pull over,
trade empty containers for full ones
and carry on with a thank-you and see you in a few days...


As I turned and looked at the yard, frigid with first snowflakes
 but clinging valiantly to its glow of gold
like Woman vainly gripping the fraying edges of the garb of middle age,
 the need for this poem of why I love Autumn so much,
 washed over me...

The woo of purple blue scarves draped on skyline filigree
The curb appeal of Today, caped in Autumn’s finery
The holiness of hunger no five-star meal can assuage
The happiness of wonder too epic for ink and page
The glory of the hilltop cascading its color-roar
Like an Artist’s tipped palette immersing the valley floor
The rush of season-splendor undulating, wave on wave
An orchestra of grandeur serenading the cold grave
As sweep of rain song clinches nature’s prey to gray archives
Gold leaves like drunken finches sail from trees in wild nose dives

The sorrow of surrender and its bittersweet relief
Time’s touch, so harsh, yet tender in the binding of the sheaf
The land, a grand portrayal of meager glimpses of He
Who overflows earth’s table with fringes of majesty
The bright October afternoon poured from welkin canteen
In a mirage-collage of June’s peppermint, misty green
July’s gold wheat fields rippling, August’s aquamarine sea
September’s orchards twinkling like glass jars of rosehip tea
The poet, as she grapples with time’s ever-ebbing swell
Of blossoms turned to apples, of hello turned to farewell

The sense of Something Sacred swirling, slipping, tripping by
An elfin ballerina twirling on a splash of sky
A sentimental molding of love’s carousel of crumbs
Of holding soon enfolding what all letting go becomes
An impression of moments caught like petals in an urn
Of girls becoming women in a world of no return
Of murmurs snared from summers sparkling like a bit of brook
Through pages filled with darkling pictures tucked into a book
Where autumn is Life’s sister walking through joy rife with grief
An empathetic whisper unraveling leaf by leaf

© Janet Martin




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Thank-you for stopping by my porch! I hope you were blessed!