Harvest reaping has been done
The nights are cool at last
We wait for leaves to vibrantly color
Though too soon they will be past.
This autumn season rustles in
With respite from the heat
Though winter follows much too soon
And shoveling’s such a feat.
Do not miss all the changes
Enjoy each sight, sound and smell
Let them not pass by without pause and praise
Before winter’s savage hell.
Autumn paints in colors
That summer has never seen
Rustling leaves traveling in the wind
To places they’ve never been.
Take time to stop and notice
All of Mother Nature’s glory
Each season has a reason,
Each season has a story.
Words – sounds that feel good to our tongue and lips – by conscious decision we choose the right word – – is the season fall or autumn? Both capture the same image, but autumn rolls off the tongue like a vision of its splendor. The word brings forth the thought of the sober and careful nature that is the capitulation of spring and summer now gone “mad” – colors everywhere – leaves on the trees are now more like tethered balloons – nature at the circus with fun and visual delights. No more the solid green of the trees and lawns but a true vision of the palette of life foreshadowing the glory that will lead to the rest and dormancy that is winter. And why not? After such an outburst and display, nature must recover herself and prepare for the explosion that will come with each new spring – thrusting all of her energy into the composition of a new creation. But in autumn, the energy has been expended and the rewards evident in display – nature’s last chance to show off and strut her brilliance and dazzle us for one more time like the fireworks at the end of the show. In the brilliance, we ignore the tomato plants now bent and drooped, frail and withered and having outlived their purpose, or the raspberry vine which long lost its fruit and now becomes only a bramble to shelter rabbits and other critters foraging for safety and nourishment before the final freeze… the freeze that is the sound of the word winter – say the word and its syllables bite like Dante’s final circle in Hell – Satan is frozen in a lake of ice and his wings flap to create a hurricane while his tears are frozen to his face – the Earth wrapped in her cloak of white and slumber with the starkness of contrast of the naked trees – stripped like Christ before the crucifixion, head bowed and fate heavy upon His face. In these moments, the promise of the new Genesis of spring – the absolute renewal and all its implications – something we only believe by faith will occur.
Words and ideas – the importance of all those synapses firing and jumping – playing with the meaning and shadings – to admit only generically at the meanings… being allowed to explore the meaning that we at first only hint at and then, amazed by the truth of the situation, we begin to understand the full ramifications of what our words and ideas reveal of ourselves to another. How often do we wish we could “take back” our words – syllables said in the heat of a given moment which are at the core of the truth inside ourselves – – realizing that we have said too much only because we have been totally honest – and the light of absolution does not come from the other’s eyes – the ramifications of our deepest fears that we cannot undo the damage that has been done, while simultaneously knowing that speaking our truths are damaging to ourselves if left silent… the struggle to validate ourselves to be accepted as just who we are against the believe that no one will be willing, much less able, to accept us at that place.
I like words, the magic and the promises they convey – to explore or explain their sense of being and meaning- but I use them too much in an attempt to explore or explain my own sense of being and meaning – trying so diligently to come up with the “right” answers to life’s questions. For example, during a job interview, one is asked if one could trust someone who had lied to him/her… How can one answer in a simple “yes” or “no”? We as humans set out with good intentions, and no one else but each of us can be the scale by which we measure ourselves – to say that I wouldn’t trust someone would suggest that I have never lied — but to say that I wouldn’t trust that person is also to impose my own values on a situation of which I do not have full knowledge. And so, one hedges his/her bet by a rash of words explaining the thought process – because the words beyond “yes” or “no” are needed if we want to accurately convey that we just don’t know the answer, rather than admit that we don’t know the answer. Explanation and justification are rationalization at their best… rather than admit that we are more than the sum of parts known by a single answer…