To Cat With Love

I had been saving this poem (rough draft that is) for a special present to Cat but I think it needs to go out to her now.

Of Autumn’s Song

A picture in my mind appears,
rows of naked sentry trees,
the ground, no longer within summer’s embrace,
hungrily hugs to itself a heavy coat of leaves.
Here are the paths I wander when
the world becomes too much.
Here in silence but for Autumn’s wind songs,
I may find the sanctuary my troubled mind craves.

For Summer’s flings are oft too hot
and Winter has no patience for
moody comtemplative thoughts.
Spring is too cheerful
with it’s screams of color and sun.
Only Autumn seems to grasp
the need for balance.
The stillness weaved with hues
of reds, and golds, and browns.
Just enough color to remind you
of the beauty of this Earth,
just enough silence to make you appreciate
the soft lull of winds through bare branches.

I meander about these paths and allow my soul to heal.
As the trees let their precious leaves fall, so do I.
My leaves being
apprehensions,
misgivings,
guilts,
heartaches,
mournings,
rages,
jealousies,
disappointments,
I allow these to fall and
let the wind do as it wills.

After unburdening I sit against a tree,
it’s trunk supportive, embracing,
Here I touch the rough bark,
the texture striking
beneath my fingertips.
I marvel at this Ancient’s strength,
the age, and wisdom.
Around each trunk leaves rustle.
Not yearning for the branches
but delighted in their freedom.
The world and woods are preparing
for Winter’s sleep and so
I savor every sensation,
every surprise.
I wonder how the leaves that crunch
can be so soft when one lies on them.
How trees now bare,
seem prouder then when in bloom.
And then the questions cease,
the mind finally drained.
It is just I and Autumn.

I allow the embrace of wind and leaf.
I welcome the hues of sunset,
awe struck by the understated,
yet vibrant pairing of earth and sky.
I invite the season to linger a bit longer,
selfishly,
Knowing full well I may only ask, never demand,
I welcome the release of control,
the knowledge that I am merely one soul
among the many that reside here.

I thank the woods
for their shelter and beauty.
I thank the lazy fireflies
for being Heaven’s starlight on earth.
I thank the ever present grasshoppers
for their rhythmic heartbeat song.
I thank the playful leaves
as they dance upon the air.
I thank the light footed squirrels
for their daring acrobatics.
But most of all I thank the wind
that whispers to my skin,
with lightest touch
blessing my unworthy self
as if to say,
this is where I belong,
this is my soul,
this is home.

©Natalia Erin Sorman 2008

This is only the rough draft as I have no one to really run it by (sound familiar KitCat?)  but I hope that it conveys to you, my dear friend, the emotions that you and I feel about our most favorite season.

This poem is for you.