ah — it is fall, early Nov.. stunning streaks of yellow, gold, red and brown across the gaze, temperatures dropping, frost crispy underfoot in the early morn.. and it’s a bittersweet time for me. time for the gardens I tend to wish me well for the winter and I, I to crawl into my winter den of hiberation at the desk and internal ponderings of writing and other more subterranean bubblings.
this prompts me to share a poem I wrote in the fall, back in ’96, at at time when I was far more caught up in sorting through my life dysfunctions (not that that habit has not stopped, mind you! ;~) just shifted a bit to less dysfunction and more fun, I’d like to think… )
oh, right, I was honored to have it published in a collection back in the late 90’s, a Baltimore – based poetry collection.
[Abscission is the botanical term for the process that a tree goes through when all the juices and nutrients in a leaf are pulled back into the tree itself to allow the leaf to then be spliced off and fall…]
I do not know the struggle there is
when a leaf looses hold of the tree
to take its turn to the earth.
Whether the painting of the forest
streaks from the echoes of fights
to color between tree and leaf.
Or a calm, quick exit is cut, to say
“Farewell, I’m off”,
and the breeze embraces the trust of fall.
Does a tree wish a leaf well,
in the leaps of faith each shedding
takes in the dance of decomposing?
Shall I ever cross my parents’ threshold
for once, to say “Farewell, you are strong
and I am off”?
Or part a lover
with a “Thank you, you have given me much”
to cascade with joy onward?
Could I ever shed my fears as foliage painted
to turn and turn to dance in the shadows of light
and become humus under my steps?