Tuesday, September 23, 2014

Edges of Autumn today


Every year we have been
witness to it: how the
world descends

into a rich mash, in order that
it may resume.
And therefore
who would cry out

to the petals on the ground
to stay,
knowing as we must,
how the vivacity of what was is married

to the vitality of what will be?
I don't say
it's easy, but
what else will do

if the love one claims to have for the world
be true?

So let us go on, cheerfully enough,
this and every crisping day,

though the sun be swinging east,
and the ponds be cold and black,
and the sweets of the year be doomed.
from her collection, A Thousand Mornings

4 comments:

podso said...

Didn't it feel like autumn yesterday? I love your new header. What an interesting painting.

Cheri Struble said...

I really needed that as I mourn for summer. Saying good bye to warmth and green is so hard for me.

Sara said...

Wonderful words. I need to pay more attention to poetry, as I've said many times . . . this one really made me slow down and savor. Thank you.

Nancy said...

Lovely! Autumn - the almost perfect season! At least it is to me.