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.
81 Responses
In a final blaze of brilliance
Autumn trees surrender to the mystery of God
Bare bones stand out in stark simplicity.
Lush color given way to clean, spare lines.
Skeletons of trees draw me away from surfaces.
My roots reach deep into moist, rich earth.
Winter’s silence descends.
Calling me to abide now in this holy darkness.
Thank you for this poetry party! I love reading about all these beautiful and honest images. It inspired me to work on an unfinished piece of writing…
Quilting Today
Today
The red tomatoes are picked and canned,
The green vines have dried and withered,
The round pumpkins are ripening well.
Today we returned to the room
Where we cut fabric into pieces—
Beginning beautiful quilts.
Unfinished quilts.
We cut into each other—
Beginning silent decades.
Divided friends.
Today she showed me the quilt squares in her cedar chest.
We spoke of the same things we did years ago,
Our husbands
Our fathers
Our mothers
Our children
Our work
Our land.
Today we spoke more gently, truthfully added
Ourselves
and
Love.
Like the quilts in her cedar chest,
We are unfinished.
Like the imperfect quilt corners,
We are ripening—
Ever so slowly,
Peacefully, hopefully
Well into winter.
Seasons Change: From Death to Life
You can change your mind like the wind
and I will wait to see what new idea this blows in
A new color for my world and my eyes
because these rose colored glasses don’t come in my size
I realize that falling leaves concerned me before
How bare the tree seemed so naked and raw
Vulnerable.
A change of season gave me reason to fear the unknown
Unsure how the wind will blow
As the sun grows dark and the air grows colder
and the leaves turn from gold to brown
and it all seems older
But I have found this is just my illusion
a delusion that this death is the ending
when really it is the beginning… of truly living
So I trust in the beauty I might not see, but I can feel
This is real!
A birth of something new, exciting and wonderful
Come full circle.
written by Patty Sherry
Cemetery Trees
Who would have guessed…
that there would be pink and blue trees
in a cemetery?
Isn’t that what what you find in hospitals
to happily herald the sexes of newborns?
I guess it doesn’t matter
what sex you are when you are dead.
Maybe that’s why the trees can’t decide
and just come out in full bloom with pink and blue hues,
as if it really didn’t matter to them either.
But they seem to have the right idea,
that death is beautiful and full of promise.
It’s nice to think about, tho,
pink and blue trees in full blossom
in autumn,
in a cemetery.
Maybe there is a God,
and maybe she has a sense of humor…
and beauty…
When fall leaves let go
of their green glory, they show
their age brilliantly.
Awesome Susan! As I approach the age of 60 I hope that I can show my age brilliantly. it is hard in this day when the elderly are looked upon as burdens to be put away. We should be so fortunate to look for their bright colors as the age brilliantly! Thank you so much!
Thanks, Deb, for words of encouragement. Shine on!
family trees shed
misty colored memories
holding our glory
Let’s Stand
I don’t know why
Your wife died of cancer,
Your son was killed in a bar fight
Ten days before grad,
Or your daughter died on Christmas day
Returning from a ski trip in the Rockies.
But, sing me your loud laments
And I’ll sing you mine.
We’ll stand and grieve together.
Then, we’ll leave this place and
let our hearts beat again
in the world of fate and grace.
I love these words especially: “sing me your loud laments / And I’ll sing you mine. / We’ll stand and grieve together.” So needed in our world. Thank you.
Autumn Rebirth
How can forests of red and gold be sad?
How can a bushel of winter squashes be an ending?
How can back-to-school help but signal a new life?
Grieve summer? No, not this time.
Cooler winds, warmer colours brush away
the somnolence left over
from the intensity of summer;
Pull me outward, point me to amazement,
fodder for the long, blanketed meditation
of winter.
Thank you Elizabeth, “point me to amazement” is a line that is shimmering for me today.
Grieve summer? No, not this time, me neither x
In the Mist of Autumn Falling
Silently
autumn falls
red and gold
upon a bed of green
cool like your touch
upon my cheek
I feel your breath
gently rising in the mist
whispering, whispering.
Whispering
sweet succulent words
of promises
never spoken
strewn like fallen leaves
upon the story
of our love
lost
and never found
in autumn falling all around.
You were so fresh
the breath of spring
bathing
my senses
in the heady dew
of your touch
awakening my soul’s
journey back
to the cradle of your arms.
Safe, I surrendered
to your voice calling me
home
home to where my heart
breaks
open
I fall
in love.
and then you are gone
gone like summer
falling, falling.
Falling into autumn’s embrace
I lay
still
my heart
beats
silently
in the mist of autumn
falling.
I have posted my poem on my blog as well with a link back here — http://www.recoveryourjoy.blogspot.com
Nameste.
Here’s my contribution, which I also posted this afternoon at my blog: http://writingwithoutpaper.blogspot.com/2010/09/sowers-promise-poem.html
Sower’s Promise
Soon enough
season’s rhythm sets itself
a halo of gold
about the apple,
russet-roughed skin
mimicking the turncoats of oaks:
standing columns
dressing down.
Leaf’s body crackles,
edges crisp and curl
and break apart in the hand,
fragments of green run out.
The seed, already freely fallen,
dies into yet-yielding ground,
the sower’s promise
come to act the memory of earth.
This is so beautiful Maureen. Thank you!