This one just happened yesterday as I was walking out of school. I don’t know what it’s about, exactly.
Because the moon.
And why not?
the moon would be the answer.
You knew the way the sky
would crumble underneath
her silken gaze,
the way the stars
would tumble through her dreams.
It feels a little unfinished. I suppose the drive home is not always conducive to the writing of poetry. . .
1. Everyone’s photographs of fall trees
2. Good literature
5. The turning of the year. I must admit that this is the hard turning for me, which for the past ten years has been eased by the slow and gentle movement into the darkness that comes when the farm season is over. With the rush and constancy of school, I am finding it challenging again, this shift into darkness. All will, of course, be well. But I must (as perhaps you must too) remember to take the journey to the darkness gently, to find spaces for good strong breath, to hold my people tightly, and be held. This is a good time, no matter how it may challenge my spirit, a time which has lessons for us, dreams to share. I must be sure to make my spaces for contemplation amidst the cheery clamor of the daily.
May we walk in Beauty!