On an Afternoon Walk ~ Autumn Glow

 

autumn glows 

on bush and hedge,

while early afternoon sun 

shines on dark purple berries 

for an avian feast

“I cannot endure to waste anything so precious 

as autumnal sunshine by staying in the house.”

~ Nathaniel Hawthorne,  

(1804 ~ 1864)

The Biggest of Lies

When you know 

that the sun will always shine, 

the wind will always blow 

whether your life 

spins out of control or 

is as placid as a lake on a summer’s day, 

you will also know that your heart 

will let your spirit and soul soar 

despite the naysayer’s surrounding you. 

And when one of those naysayers is

your own voice

telling you all that you can’t do 

let your spirit and your soul 

guide the way past that biggest of lies 

to the facts that are true.

“The man who lies to himself and listens to his own lie comes 

to such a pass that he cannot distinguish the truth within him.”

~ Fyodor Dostoevsky, novelist

(1821 ~ 1881)

For the Noonday Sun

Spring blossoms, 

pink and translucent, 

whisked away too soon 

by cruel winds 

but autumn blossoms 

in gold and red, 

a filter for noonday sun 

give me joy.

“How beautiful the leaves grow old. 

How full of light and color are their last days.”

~ John Burroughs, essayist

(1837 ~ 1921)

Adrift

 

Scattered clouds of yesterday 

adrift in the evening sky ~

gilded by tonight’s setting sun.

“The sky and the sun are always there. 

It’s the clouds that come and go.”

~ Rachel Joyce,  

The Love Song of Miss Queenie Hennessy

Celestial Hands of Time

Time slipped 

 minute by minute 

   the only thing visible 

     the sun and the moon 

~ celestial hands of 

true time that watch 

  

    over each day and night.

“My roses are my jewels; 

the sun, moon and stars my clocks; 

fruit and water my fare.”

~ Lady Hester Stanhope 

(1776 ~ 1839)

One Tough Tulip

This yellow tulip tries to outshine 

robins, sparrows and finches 

each year from the same bed 

where west sun warms the wall. 

Never mulched against winter

unless with autumn leaves

or dried grasses, the little bulb

rests through the long winter

reappears when the warmth returns.

“Wherever life plants you, bloom with grace.”

~ French Proverb

Shine

The sun was warm today 

no quarrel with wind 

that tried to snatch its warmth. 

It merely shone on its

scheduled pass around 

the globe. As I walked 

I tried to catch the warmth  

despite buildings of brick 

and mortar and bare hedges.

When I did, I stopped 

and turned my face 

to the sun’s golden glow.

“Birds sing after a storm; why shouldn’t people feel as

 free to delight in whatever sunlight remains to them?”

 ~ Rose Kennedy

The Race

Hurry into the morning as 

if it would escape. The victim 

of an everyday chase that ends 

when afternoon comes. Chase 

slows as sun lowers itself t’ward 

the horizon and the shadow of 

the racer crosses the finish line

Hurry into the night, out of breath and wanting sleep to come quickly so the race can begin again in the morning. And what use is 

the hurry, 

  the chase, 

                 the race 

when sun and moon don’t pay attention 

to our funny little races through our lives.

“We have to slow the rhythm of our lives so that 

the best of who we are can emerge.”

~ Lysa TerKeurst, author

Winter

When the sky is so blue 

    it hurts your eyes

When the air is so cold 

    it burns your breath

When the snow fills the lace 

    of the trees

When the sun is so bright 

    it blinds you

It is winter.

“Nothing burns like the cold.”

~ George R.R. Martin,  A Game of Thrones

A Sunflower song

Do you have sunflowers 

in the palm of your hand? 

That sounds a bit amiss, 

but in my hand they are field 

of tiny sunflowers with a sky

as blue as blue can be with 

radiant sun above, white puffs of clouds to ride the breeze. 

In this handful of nature is 

the life that sunflowers offer 

to the bees to the birds, 

surrounded by a frill of petals, 

as bright as the sun. 

So if you have sunflowers 

in the palm of your hand, life will 

be yours to share with me and thee.

“We’re all golden sunflowers inside.”

~ Allen Ginsberg