The fall of the leaf


Photo at Pixabay

Maybe autumn ‘flu slows me down for a good reason? I’ve had time today to stop and stare. Time for books, hot lemon and honey, fallen leaves, and gazing at the sky. I remember times when I’d apologise for slowing down. Nowadays I apologise (to myself as much as anyone) for running too fast. I welcome time to look at what’s here and now in the world and to wonder why I am in it. And it’s the wondering itself – rather than any answers – that’s the important thing. The contemplation draws me towards dawn.


I woke up


Author Kathleen Jones invited our group to take up a pen and in the briefest of exercises dive right into ‘I woke up …’ so,

I woke up to a warm, gray and rainy day. Ahead of me lay another morning’s company exploring voice in poetry and prose. Amid furrowed brows and life and laughter appreciation for my fellow writers grows. Perhaps today my pen can bring to paper last week’s delight in beautiful Croatia. Shared prose and poetry sharpens clarity and recall. Distilled recollection probes the point of life in all.

Oh how the joy of taking up a pen makes for re-sounding consequences! Awakening of course is what we authors of life, each listening carefully for the voice of our great Muse, are all aspiring to. To be able to say ‘I woke up’ is, precisely, what we all want to do.

Torrents of words sometimes send me to sleep. Pared, shared words, suspended in reflective silence and open-armed anticipation, vivify and energise.

This afternoon, still gray and rainy, I came across an anonymous well-wisher’s memorable benediction:

May you live all the days of your life

I’m thankful for all whose companionship enables me to say ‘I woke up’ – even whilst I yet aspire to deeper, fuller awakening.