Saturday, September 26, 2009

Along the Way

This has been a matter,
I think now,
Of fruitless dreams
And mistaken expectations.

It was wrong-headedness
On my part
To have walked
(So many times
I have walked)
The curving,
Ever twisting,
Always turning
Within the circle
In the meadow,
Always hoping for,
Forever dreaming of,
If not expecting,
A realization,
If not a revelation,
Of a divine purpose
For my life.
And from the center
Of a place
Made holy
By the various and sundry
Prayers of so many,
I always wanted
To come away
So purposefully prepared
So certain of my way,
So suffused
With the gathered light
Of the Supreme Being
That I might know
As a child of God,
And that others
Might recognize in me
The same.

By ways inscrutable
And by means unknowable,
My self
Has been continuously
As but a steady
Low-burning flame,
A paltry light,
One that winks its way
Along the path
Through darkest night
On a journey that,
In part,
I have been given
In part,
I have chosen.
The way is lit,
The darkness is dispersed,
The dangers revealed,
But barely,
And just to either side of the way
And just before the next step,
But it is,
After all,
The next step that begs,
No, demands,
For behind me,
The darkness
Has already closed in
And all that
Has already
Is enveloped once again
In the mystery
Of what I am
And how I came to be.

Thursday, September 17, 2009

A Time for Red

The "burning bush" by Railroad Creek.

A red roof under first frost.

A bowl of apples.

Red berries and leaves by Railroad Creek.

Plums in a Bruce Bishop bowl.

A Bosc pear on a windowsill.

Monday, September 7, 2009

Two Signs

This morning, we awoke to find two signs of the rapidly approaching fall season. There was the first dusting of snow on the higher elevations of Buckskin, and the young swallow hatchlings, just out of the nest, were huddled together against the cold on the porch railing of Agape.

Tonight, the temperatures are forecast to be in the 30's. Out with the down and on with the fleece!