The Herald of Change

I felt the chill creeping around the corners yesterday
Finally the herald of change is here!
Wake up, it says
Feel the cold and smell of dead leaves
starting the race towards the poetry
of rebellion against stagnancy
my million-colored scarves lie in wait
summer is my love, but September is my season
a refinement of all rules of existence
No longer do we have the sanctuary of knowledge.

Wake up!
The time of harvest is sacred
every shift in my life has happened here
joy struggling to escape the binding of veils
I allow to wrap around spirit and self
(supposed to be a summer child)
but I waited for the faint whispers of fall
so that I could sleep through winter
wrapped in blankets and prayer-songs.

I think maybe I will always be trapped between seasons.

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8 Comments

  1. I second this poem. Bring on the sweaters and jeans.

    For some reason, the Fall is my favorite of the seasons. Is it morbid that the Fall is when everything starts to die?

  2. hmm. I don’t think it is. Things can’t be stagnant, change is necessary, and so is death. 🙂

    Fall is not my favorite season (I get cold very easily)…I have mixed feelings about it. Hence the poem. And it isn’t just the weather.

  3. ooh… love this. makes me want to curl up on the couch and watch the leaves fall outside while i sip tea… but then again i love fall. it’s nice, the ambivalence about the seasons, but the sleeping thru winter wrapped in blankets part is just plain beautiful.

  4. Aye, that strikes a chord. Like the great grizzly, I too would prefer to spend most of the winter in hibernation.

    Happy Birthday!

  5. Change indeed. Seems almost fitting that your b’day is in that state of seasonal flux 🙂

    Poem reminds me of one of David’s songs – Harvest Moon. And if I remember, will send you the mp3 tomorrow.