It is autumn. The trees are turning, letting go. I should let go too. After a lifetime of clinging to expectations, you would think I’d have learned a thing or two. About letting go. About not holding on for too long, way past the point of no return. It’s a hazard of course, of optimism, of wishful thinking.
A dozen of more leaves drift from the treetops, settling softly on the damp ground as I imagine myself turning, turning. No amount of angst will change what is. Time to let go. Time to ride the wind instead of leaning into it full-faced, stubborn, unmoved. I wish you peace and health and love.
Sunday’s ReVerse – 25 October 2020
aflame in red, amber, gold,
listen to the wind and chill
there is no calm, no eye
I keep forgetting to breathe
barely forming waves, the air
this life is not for the feigned of heart
but half of us are wide awake
wintering beneath the dust
A ReVerse poem (a practice I started many years ago) is a summary poem with a single line lifted from each entry of a collection of work over a particular timeframe and re-penned in chronological order as a new poem. Unlike a collaborative poem, the ReVerse features the words of one writer, providing a glimpse into their thoughts over time. I use it as a review of the previous week…or in this case, the past few weeks.