Changing of the Guard
Mother Nature teases me, signaling fall’s approach.
Her intentions manifested in the wind, played through rustling leaves losing their glossiness, shards of sunlight piercing the canopies at angles lowered for the autumn dance between Earth and Sun.
Shades from Her palette, degrees in subtleness, shape my thoughts, demanding rumination in a moment of solitude. The wind carries the scent of metamorphosis from the woods, revealing Gaia’s vulnerability; this I embody, a communion with denizens of the forest.
Seasonal sensations of the ceremonious changing of the guard by the trees standing watch over the denizens, both wild and human, living in the woods. Gaia’s forest murmurs permeate the dampness, muffling the acoustical signature of the lake.
Gaia’s presence is silhouetted behind the veil of changing colors of the trees and foliage in the forest. When Gaia entirely makes her intentions known, leaves presenting hues of orange and amber fall, meandering downward onto the forest floor. The forest fairies love this time of year, gliding down on a falling leaf giggling with the innocence of children at play.
Pumpkin-spice buckwheat waffles, chewy oatmeal-date cookies, and Kendra’s Tree Bark berry muffins turn a dark, dreary, soggy day in October into a festive moment when the baked aromas waft through the cabin’s expanse.
Abores In Situ
Unless the moon has come out, the woods at the lake are shrouded in darkness at the witching hour.
Nocturnal forest denizens take delight at this hour under the cloak of darkened skies.
Patience in tandem with ears receptive to the stillness of the air delivers the murmur of Gaia’s presence to those who dwell among the animal kingdom.
My emotions fluctuate in concert with the changing of colors in the woods around the lake. Each day presents a modicum of change for me to observe and reconcile. The days grow more melancholic as the nonhuman living world around me evokes imagery of deepening states of metamorphosis. Alone in my cabin, I dwell on such matters because I’m not preoccupied with another. Chattering voices of adults and giggles of children attempting acts of mischief with their innocence are not here to deter me from my meditative contemplations of why I exist.
Like the animal kingdom in the forest, I am, too, going through changes that will occupy my life for fall and winter and eventually emerge in the springtime from my slumber. I can’t stop the behavior of Nature and those who think they can fail without remorse from Gaia. I capitulate to Her, freely, excitedly, making my intentions clear to the expanse of the Universe. This is the way of my choice, My Tao.
Quartet of Haiku I
Dead trees guard them now
Fallen too they weep for thee
Their leaves rustle not
Snow bleeds red today
Forged in valleys old ago
Unscabbard swords sing
Tread me not in vain
Whilst my beckoning call seeks
Death gives no response
Dance in the light behind me
Waves take them away
Coffee Shop Jitters
I went outside to howl at the moon
It wasn’t full, but it mattered not
Tomorrow may not exist for you or me
That’s why I watched you sip coffee
Your scone crumbled, fell into your cup
You heard me laugh, turned to spy me
We both blushed, retreated back inward
Seated by yourself, anticipation swooning
I adored every precise fidget you made
But alas, the moon sank behind clouds
Whatever you thought of me is true
That’s why I watched you quietly fly away