(or... Always The Beginning)
~
Each passing gust
Claims another leaf
From the pages
of our history.
Red russeted and gold
One by one
Fluttering
Beautiful in their demise.
We clutch at withered dreams
dampened hope.
We scream.
Unable to prevent
The Fall.
Our buckets remain empty
Bar the tears.
Impotent
We are left
Watching the butterflies
Effect transient chaos.
The storm gathers
leaves
As memories
Decay at our feet.
The seasons cycle
Loss
Nurtures
New beginnings.
We watch,
Endure.
Question.
Is it truly better
to have loved?
And then...
A new leaf buds
And
We know.
And
We grow.
Life has an uncanny way of crashing into a foamy mess when we least expect it.
I tend to ebb and flow with my writing, taking time out as necessary. Sometimes life takes me to the breaking point, and at others, it is the perfect point break; a long and glorious wave meant to be ridden to its full.
I haven't truly written with any regularity or intent for a while. This time, my children took me away, as they do so often. We end up putting aside our own needs to ensure the security of theirs. Sometimes that can be a little overwhelming and sets us off spiraling until we emerge on the other side, a little more battle-scarred but always with gratitude. We take on so many roles in life; roles that require us to put others first. It's a constant juggle... and not always easy finding our way back to the one that satisfies the needs of the self.
In many ways, this poem is me dipping my toes in the waters again. When I'm struggling to put pen to paper or fingers to the keyboard, I eventually find myself reaching for a 5-minute prompt or indulging in a little poetry. Both connect me back to my creative side in different ways. The former disconnects me from structure and forces me to accept whatever flows, breaking down perceived barriers. The latter takes me deep and enables me to play with structure and language and get introspective. Both allow me to fall in love with writing all over again. As I write I have 5 other posts in draft, all at various stages of completion - but none anywhere near complete!
I find poetry very personal. You can try to hide behind its sometime obscurity, but it is still revealing of the soul. Perhaps that is why I am drawn to it.
Recently, I have felt in a state of flux again. Changes are afoot. Some seem positive but I can't say I'm enjoying them all. Once familiar patterns are changing. Once consistent beacons are no longer so. When I look back, I think I can see where the shifts occurred in the design. Where some things became irreversible. Sometimes I sit and grieve the loss of something that never really was and others I simply wish I had seen the anomaly in the matrix sooner. Life, huh!
The seasons will always change. It is by His design that they do. I think we reach a time in our life though, perhaps with maturity, with insight, when we understand that not all battles need to be fought, let alone won. We let go with grace the things that are no longer meant to be. If you love something, set it free. Right? And even though much will change as we age and grow in this life, I take heart in the fact that some things and people will remain, filling our buckets for a lifetime and beyond... eternally... and with them it will be...
Resources
Header image composite created in Canva Pro using the following three images:
Fall Leaves in Idyllic Landscape by winyuu
Falling Autumn Leaves by borchee
Infinity divider created using Canva Pro library.
Dreemport banner used with permission of @dreemsteem and @dreemport and designed by @jimramones
