Here She Comes

She is pungent pepper and sage that was crisply fried 
She is heart of oak with just a hint of Cabernet 
She is burnt chocolate that is chalky and slow to melt on the tongue 
She smells smoky and ghostly dusty and seared with lost angels' wings
She does not make you work for the sight of her beauty but she is a terrible tease 

All that is green now makes a bed for the brown that falls from above
Crunch and scutter become the new percussion sounds
At the end of the day
And everyone else (except for black, bold crows) becomes quiet and waits
For the grand entrance that is slower
Than gooey molasses across the fondant of Halloween candies

Every year, like her lover, I wait patiently for her arrival 
And watch as she drops calling cards hither and yon
in the weeds
of my life
Mixing sarcasm and flattery 
Just to keep me on the edge 
And to keep me distracted 
Before she shoves that first cold caress in my face
and then giggles with the cold dawn that seals her arrival.

Connections

The world is filled with alien and overpowering connections and life forms that are both wondrous and frightening.  Yet, the most beautiful and precious time in life is when you help a young one make these connections with nature in its purest form.  We cannot expect them to help us save this fragile world until we teach them to love this fragile world.  Why don't you introduce the world to someone younger than you?

My Jilted Garden

She sits neglected

Like an orphan

and sadder than the match girl

No one looks into her baleful eyes

No one notices her feet are muddy,

and her toes overgrown with weeds

She still wears flowers, faded,

In her matted hair

the petals tangled with interloping insects

Visitors arrive to eat and run

As autumn waits impatiently on the threshold

to claim the season

And I,
discouraged,
do not know where to begin!

Happy Trails to You

Out Mid-West and West there is the Trail of Tears.  Those of you who know your American history know that over 125,000 American Indians were driven from their land in the South Eastern U.S. across thousands of miles until they reached the mid-western U.S. on the other side of the Mississippi River.  The Choctaw were the first to go.  The Cherokee took their case to the U.S. Supreme Court which surprisingly supported their argument.  But that "great" President Andrew Jackson refused to uphold the court ruling and enforced the Indian Removal Act and Cherokee were then driven across the land from their homes with many dying along the way.  The America Indian was a refugee in his/her own land.  This movement was called the Trail of Tears because so many died.  ( A few Cherokee were allowed to stay behind because their tribes had signed treaties.)  Sadly this removal continued in the wild West as that land became important to the interloping Europeans.

You cannot see the blood in the sand if you walked various trails, but you can hear the cries of the mothers and babies in the winds that blow across the sage brush when you reach the desert just before an oncoming storm.  There were ancient Indians that already had homelands in this space around 500 BC and they left their art work almost everywhere to share with the newcomers.  They left stories of hunting, families, ornamentation, and perhaps, tears.

The Other Side of the Room

In the beginning you are a simple tourist filled with awe and you try to capture that feeling to take home.  You cannot believe that it is all yours as far as the eye can see.

The Room Without Walls is enormously large, and taking at trip to the other side of the room becomes an inspiring and breathtaking tonic.  Just what I needed to get away from the chaos of this world.  This side of the room is quiet and empty with a vacuity that calls to the heart and mind.  You cannot hide from who you are nor can you morph into something camouflaged.  You are naked and it is freeing as you begin to forgive and to love yourself a little more.

The dangers can be seen long before they arrive to challenge your spirit.  You have time to to square your shoulders and face the music.  And sometimes the music is so sweet that it brings tears to your eyes.

(Photos taken outside of Dinosaur National Monument in Colorado.)