I’m the early days of Autumn.
Or call it the Fall, if you will.
Harvest has begun.
Days have shortened.
Peaches are honey, they’ve ripened.
Leaves have started turning.
Red. Orange. Gold.
Trees are preparing to shed what they can’t keep
I’m the Autumn. Not the end of it,
but its beginning.
Life’s beauty surrounds me, my heart overwhelmed,
My leaves have started turning.
Dreaming feels different,
not like the dreaming of a child.
I’m no longer the heartbreaker I was in my twenties.
My energy is nowhere close to how it was in my thirties.
I’ve already past my mid forties.
Red. Orange. Gold.
Trees know well how to surrender.
And that all things end,
Good or bad.
That it’s a never-ending feast of a cycle
where life is seated beside loss.
The inseparable friends of being human.
Grief resides in a chamber of the heart
next to joy.
And it isn’t just a tenant.
It decks its room with the ephemera
of our lives.
Little trinkets for tears.
A porcelain Fabergé egg preserving
reminiscences of love and laughter.
Snapshots of heartbreak, reuniting, triumphs and defeat,
belly laughs and faces fading away by the year.
The heroes of my life have begun crossing over.
Little Grandma, Evin, and Laurie have passed over
to the wild blue yonder.
For life and loss begin with the same letter.
And neither is a word longer
than the other.
Your Writing Prompt:
Today, write about the time of the year you resonate with at this moment.
Do you identify with the spirit of any of the four seasons or of a specific month? Do you feel closer inside to the month of April? Or do you feel you have more in common right now with what autumn brings to mind—like I do? Set your timer to ten minutes and write without stopping or judging your writing. And when you finish writing, come back here and share your piece in the comments below. I’d love to read it!
“In the depth of winter, I finally learned that within me there lay an invincible summer.”
~ ALBERT CAMUS