Biting, the sun’s brilliance –
set against a cornflower blue sky –
competes with the mustard gold,
tangerine orange and chartreuse
leaves, shimmering in the breeze
the vividness of colours, too sharp
for just awakened eyes, begs retreat.
I contemplate what I have witnessed,
think life is like this: too beautiful
at times for words, glorious perfection.
In a blink, the sky changes – white
clouds forming a backdrop, the autumn
wind tossing the tree about, branches
dipping, pulled apart, and the harmony
of the moment is gone, and I think
life is like this: turning without notice,
what once was balance suddenly lost,
and we are left spinning; I can hear it now
wind rushing against the windowpane,
taunting: Change! Change is coming!
And I know what it speaks is true, for
life is like this: ever-fluctuating, and
the reminder is bittersweet; my heart,
reluctant to let go of summer, knows
it’s okay; it’s just the way of life.
(This post is a rewrite of an early entry on One Woman’s Quest. The original was written as prose and I thought it might be interesting to rewrite as a poem.)
Writer, avid reader, former educator, and proud grandmother, currently experiencing life through the lens of ME/CFS. Words are, and always have been, a lifeline. Some of the best adventures, I'm discovering, take place in the imagination.