Season of Winter

The day says goodbye with a painted sky

The colors more glorious than has been the day

God affirms his presence, confirms his essence,

And beauty breaks through.

Yet God does not promise roses in winter,

Each season holds elements hard and cold.

But He asks us to find the intricate design

In beauty breaking through.

Perhaps the season is painful and harsh,

Perhaps the gray days have us weary,

But we can choose hope–for all seems new

When beauty breaks through.

Dancing in Fall

The sky invites
The sycamores to dance.
Bare branches
Bend and sway
Curtsying to one another
In proper fashion.
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Meanwhile the leaves have flown.
They turn up around back
Loitering by the steps,
Rabble rousing and wild dancing…
Waiting for the night wind
to whisk them away.

I’m very thankful that the leaves in the country don’t require raking, piling, bagging, and stacking. The night wind just whisks them away…

 

This is reposted from November three years ago, because, yeah, leaves…

Fire on the Next Hill

last night
a fiery orange light
glowed ferociously
on the next hill.
i thought the Blakers’
barn was burning.
(i left my warm bed and stepped outside for a better view.)

the flames
leaped into the black
and devoured the trees
of the horizon.
i thought the still-green leaves
in the valley between
will keep us safe.
(my husband joined me to witness the spectacle.)

then the triangle
of flames and fire
suddenly settled into
a sideways orange half moon.
61.2% rising ENE
at 11:16 p.m
i thought when has a half-moon-rising
ever been fire in the sky.
(we laughed at one more
2020 wildness.)

my skittish, sheepish
thoughts morphed like moonfire
into a silent prayer.
Lord of the moon, the sky, the earth,
protect us from fires raging
in the darkness
and turn them into
just a spectacular autumn moonrising
in the night sky.
(i slept the weighted, dreamless sleep of peace.)