Autumn breathes in golden sunshine and breathes out a frosty chill.
Forty-two-tick-tock
the body is a clock —
bones tick and tock
years gather in flesh
an alarm set for death
I stand amid the dust
In the rash lustihead of my young powers,
I shook the pillaring hours
And pulled my life upon me; grimed with smears,
I stand amid the dust o’ the mounded
My mangled youth lies dead beneath the heap.
—Francis Thompson, from “The Hound of Heaven,” 1890
Questions of the Sky
—Anonymous, The Queries Magazine, 1890
Fall, fall!
Fall, temperatures, fall, fall! Let the weather mellow and the year drift into peacefulness.
Flow with life
You’ve got to keep moving to keep the beauty of life in perspective. If you hold still too long, things go blurry.
Verdin
the tiny birdie verdin
wears his heart on his sleeve
and sunshine on his head —
a hyper handsome hopper
with acrobatic feats —
calling chip chip chip
and singing dulcet tsweets
They’ll be back
you can shout it to every star
bare your soul up to the moon
cast your problems nightly afar —
but they always flood back by noon
Iridescent
the years sprint, sail, drift, fly —
days melt into sleep
decades we no longer know
by taste or smell, yes
but hard fast memories tend not to keep —
youth lives on — yet, is long gone
birds chirp each spring anew
but our hearts sing the same shades
of childhood colors we once knew
Life is dirty
You can’t get overwhelmed by the thought of all the weeds if there are flowers in your soul.
Sound of winter leaves at night
Age is a foreign land I can’t get used to. I want to go back home.
Leaves!
when the leaves fly
float, feather, flutter
off the autumn trees
i am in love with life
Ask yourself
Occasionally ask, “What is the connection between what I want most in life and anything I plan to do today?”
—Robert Brault, rbrault.blogspot.com