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Invitation to Poetry: Autumn Blessings

Welcome to Poetry Party No. 47!

I select an image and suggest a theme/title and invite you to respond with your poems or other reflections. Add your responses in the comments section. Feel free to take your poem in any direction and then post the image and invitation on your blog (if you have one) and encourage others to come join the party! (permission is granted to reprint the image if a link is provided back to this post)

Please post your poem in the comments section below (feel free to include a link to your blog – it would be wonderful to have all of the full text of all the poems gathered together below).


Poetry Party Theme: Autumn Blessings

Autumn is my favorite season (followed closely by winter). I love the air getting crisper, I love the harvest of fall squashes, I love the transformation of the landscape into a witness to the beauty that can be found in surrender. Seven years ago my mother died suddenly in the month of October and my long walks among the autumn leaves offered me tremendous comfort in the depths of my grief. The seasons offer us great wisdom when we listen to their invitations and questions.

I invite you to write a poem about the gifts, graces, invitations, questions, and challenges of autumn. Let your words be a celebration and exploration.


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81 Responses

  1. Autumn Splendor

    Trees nestled in this graveyard.
    Are enveloped in a misty fog,
    In the foreground, a tree with roots
    And vibrant red foliage flows
    Gently with the fall breeze,
    Crisp autumn colors of leaves
    In bright red, yellows and oranges
    Waft from the trees as fall arrives.

    Tombstones mark the memories
    Of people gone beyond impacting our lives
    Souls in this treasured thin space
    Have touched my life leaving a void,
    As I think of them and their lives.
    Prayerfully I extend my gratitude,
    for these people today, I pay tribute.
    And offer them a blessing gazing on
    God’s gifts of Autumn splendor.

    Submitted and Written by:
    Victoria MacDonald
    © September 13, 2010

  2. My stepmother passed away less than a month ago – for many reasons, we had no relationship to speak of. Her passing, however, has opened a door for a renewal of relationship with my “birth” father – in the sadness of her death is the birth of a great good!

    Falling

    Leaves
    Change appearance
    Burst in color
    Then curl and twist
    Lose their grip and fall
    Floating gently to the waiting ground
    They are not the tree
    Not the true essence
    But only image
    Mere clothing – on
    Trees

    Ending of image is a promise
    Like a rainbow assuring hope
    Some cannot see it
    Eyes turned inward
    Seeing death
    Alone
    Others rejoice
    Eyes wide open
    Reveling in new life
    Drinking in the enlivening hope
    Absorbing the expectancy of the promise

    Bodies
    Change form
    Gain in age
    Then curl and twist
    Experience disease and great pain
    Finally being gently laid in the ground
    They are not the person
    Not the true essence
    But only soma
    Mere flesh – on
    Life

  3. Memories

    they come like ghosts
    floating in my
    memories
    like autumn fog
    misty, gray,
    cold, intangible

    father, friend,
    mother, teacher
    death separates us now
    all except the memories
    holding them in
    static lives of yesterday

    in their gray world
    a universe apart
    each lives
    as close as thought
    within
    a gray fog box

    ©Ruth Jewell, September 13, 2010

  4. There is a tiredness in autumn
    A sense that too much energy was used to stay alert and vivbrant
    There is an incredible tiredness in autumn

    Yet, like when children of the Goddess grow tired,
    Sometimes their most beautful colors show through when they are ready to give up

    There is a tiredness in autumn
    And soon the last colors will fade and the tears of fallen leaves
    will demonstrate that the Children of the Light must also give up and rest

    The trees listen to the Creator when She says it is time to rest
    The trees listen and let go of that which they worked so hard for
    The trees listen and slow down and begin the hibernation period so that
    when the Spring comes they will have energy unbounding to repeat the cycle of life again

    We could learn much from Autumn and the Trees!

    1. Thank you Deb, I love this line especially: “Sometimes their most beautful colors show through when they are ready to give up” – I am hearing autumn’s invitation to rest and it makes my heart sing.

    2. Wow, Deb, especially that last line–they are quite alike!

      You really convey that feeling of exhaustion well.
      I agree with Christine–that line about the most beautiful colours showing through is my favourite, too.

      Lovely.

    3. I think I am longing for some hibernation and rest. A time for the Children of the Light to become Children of the Darkness. Where we can listen and let go. Thank you for your response!

  5. Trees Know How to Grieve (blogged here

    Trees know how to grieve.

    They weep in crimson and gold,

    bold in the sparkling sunlight,

    not holed up in a bedroom,

    a pile of crumpled tissues beside the bed.

    “I am sad,” they say.

    “See my sorrow.

    I am beautifully, gloriously sad.”

    Trees know how to grieve.

    They weep together,

    a mingling tears on the forest floor,

    not crying in a bathroom so no one will see.

    “It is hard to say goodbye,” they say.

    “We will help one another.”

    Trees know how to grieve.

    They cry until there are no more tears,

    leaving themselves bare and exposed,

    not hiding behind pretend smiles and small talk.

    “I have nothing left,” they say.

    “I must turn inward and gather my strength

    for the coming Spring.”

    Trees know how to grieve.

    We could learn a lot from trees.

    1. wow Amy….i read your poem after I had written mine…the Spirit was moving in us both today along the same path. Your poem is beautiful! I am amazed at how much alike they are! Blessings you and yours! Love and Light, Deb

    2. My husband died in Sept 1991 and I still remember him while walking among the fall trees. It was his favorite season, a season of grieving and letting go. I am beautifully, gloriously sad in the fall. Thank you for the poem.

    3. More beautiful than before those trees, that autumn of his life
      Colors radiant and real, here while we were going there.
      “Breakfast in Paradise,” he smiled amidst the golden glow
      Which followed him and drew us in.
      Sunlight kissing outstretched arms raised up in leafy glory
      Anticipating , singing praises.

  6. Autumn’s Fog

    I remember once
    when we
    travelled
    to the mountains
    and back.

    The vacation
    of a lifetime
    sitting
    in the behemoth
    RV that pulled
    us along.

    You were so
    silly at seven
    and I was so
    smart at ten
    that we could
    have run the
    world with
    humor and
    grace.

    Somewhere we
    lost that when
    laughter
    slowly ceased while
    the leaves fell
    calling you home.

    We lost it as
    knowing
    became unfathomable
    in our lives strewn
    upon the altar
    of mother’s death.

    The faint echo
    of laughter and
    joy
    abandoned in
    the fog.

    We lost it
    when we
    lost
    each
    other.

  7. My dad died last October, and I know exactly what you mean about the comfort autumn offers.

    Hopefully I’ll be back with a poem. Looking forward to reading everyone else’s.