Breathing more easily
the rain soaked ground
sheds the dull brown of summer
for a pale hint of green.
Arising like Lazarus
mosses come alive
with fir and madrone;
the slow patter on our roof
peaceful as a lullaby.
There is no altar but the earth,
no religion that returns us
like a cloud filled sky.
The beast says you need more
yet drink the rain and drop your root
into the abandoned silence.
There’s no one to be but yourself.
Nailed it! Sheer perfection!!
BRAVO!!! Sister T
Beautiful and profound . . .
As are you my distant brother . . .
Time to reconnect I think
Time for old friendships to
‘shed the dull brown of summer’
Let me know when you venture east
And will I as wings soar west
We, still feelings the winds of heat and fire waiting to torch the land, your poem is the promise for which we bow and ask for the Mother’s gift of rain and healing. As said above, this poem’s rhythm and song touches the essence of our lives to be nourished in the silence. Thank you.
I am enjoying your space right now…no seedy calculations…no seedy enquiries…just…
Blessed Autumn, Don.
Quiet moist joy resounds throughout. Thank you Don
It is a refreshing and freeing moment when one says, it is only up to me! Don, I love your stunning description of Autumn!