The season is changing and so am I.
In winter I hibernate,
Tea and blankets and fire and long nights.
In spring I bloom,
Color and rain and hands in the soil.
In summer I run barefoot in my soul,
Climb trees in my mind and hit all the high notes.
And in fall my heart bleeds for losses but loves just the same,
Loves the past (but not all), loves the present (but just some), loves the future.
Pain drifts out the windows, open and fine.
Lights reach my corners to keep out the webs.
In fall I get ready for whatever will come:
Dying, living, rocks or sand, dry spells or fertile.
I am here God for another season. Take care of me please.
Amen.
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