I can feel the autumn creeping closer even in the heat of the day....can you?
Even in spring I've felt the autumn of a marriage
of a friendship turned sour
of death, the greatest mystery we conceive...
but that opposite of what you love,
that counter-rotation of the stars
heavy and strange
and brimming with ache and possibility...
is it not still beautiful?
In the trying times of love I can still see the gifts given....can you?
In the fading form of a flower
crisping in the heat of August
I can still see the Hand of God at work
because without the withering
there can be no blossom to celebrate
without the loss no understanding of the pain others know, too;
no kinship beyond blood.
I encourage you to look at the things you tuck behind the
the rickety and peeling
missing buttons and slightly torn
the doors closed to a room you once loved
and ask yourself,
"Is this not still beautiful?"
Get as still as you can
if the kids allow
and as quiet as a summer night will permit, crickets and all...
given enough time and space the answer will come: a quiet and calm
pulsing with life
as all things do.