Autumn came while I was sleeping –
ochre and topaz blaze outside my window.
It was my mother’s favorite season,
and so it became mine.
Funny creatures, children –
so filled with love-longing
that we give up our native aesthetic
to wrap ourselves in the heart of the other.
It’s a confusing day here in the south.
The leaves, in their dying, a beauty beyond compare,
yet, the summer heat continues.
It will be eighty degrees again today.
The dissonance is palpable,
makes we wonder if the swelling colors are some cosmic illusion
or if God pushed the button too soon.
Autumn was autumn in New Jersey.
Corduroys and a plaid wool jacket
kept me warm
ochre and topaz blaze outside my window.
It was my mother’s favorite season,
and so it became mine.
Funny creatures, children –
so filled with love-longing
that we give up our native aesthetic
to wrap ourselves in the heart of the other.
It’s a confusing day here in the south.
The leaves, in their dying, a beauty beyond compare,
yet, the summer heat continues.
It will be eighty degrees again today.
The dissonance is palpable,
makes we wonder if the swelling colors are some cosmic illusion
or if God pushed the button too soon.
Autumn was autumn in New Jersey.
Corduroys and a plaid wool jacket
kept me warm
as I worked the tiny rake in our backyard.
She would watch us from the kitchen window
steamy with heat from the stove.
I can see her smile as we jumped into crunchy piles.
I bless God for the gift of memory.
Eyes closed, I am five again,
bundled up and swimming in a sea of color
beneath the gaze of love.
Vicki Ix, OSB
October 27, 2010
She would watch us from the kitchen window
steamy with heat from the stove.
I can see her smile as we jumped into crunchy piles.
I bless God for the gift of memory.
Eyes closed, I am five again,
bundled up and swimming in a sea of color
beneath the gaze of love.
Vicki Ix, OSB
October 27, 2010
