Tuesday, October 6, 2009

The Secret




I was wishing
for the long, warm twilight time
and the moon falling into the silver sea
and you and me.
Instead,
from the top of a mountain
the ridges were rounded steps
that fell away behind me
into a river,
with alder tracing its
curving path.
I found something else there,
perfect with its nudging truth
out of my longing.
It was lit with sunshine
and covered in a coat
of many colors and textures,
then staked to the ground
by yucca spikes
that stood erect
in their blooming hold on death
and rebirth.
There was copper and rust,
burnt orange and umber,
all sown together by the plume
of the gray squirrels tail
that darted back and forth
like a living needle.
I could smell the creosote
where the fragrant ground leaked
as sage in soft dusty green
gave reverence to the air
in a prayer for continuance
that I could hear echo
in my heart.

As I stood there
longing for something,
something that I thought summer stole from me
and would not give back,
something that would never be the same again,
autumn covered me with her quilt
so that I would understand how life changes for a reason
and time spreads
its seeds upon the ground to wait.
It whispered across the hill,
its breath as fragrant as
the sweet peas of early spring,
it whispered this secret to me:
Now is really all there is
and now it is autumn.

2 comments:

  1. "There was copper and rust, burnt orange and umber, all sewn together by the plume of the gray squirrel's tail that darted back and forth like a living needle." Only you could have written this Martie. It's an image that runs perpetual life inside head. You are amazing.

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  2. There are images that live in the heart and not the landscape...this is one. Thank you for seeing that.

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