I have been thinking a lot about all of the suffering going on in the World. The victims of fires and hurricanes. Mather nature speaks of death and rebirth limits our breath with smoke and we fell tired from it all.


Fall is the time of year to let go of our golden leaves and go inside; spend more time with our soul. One of the contemplative activities that I turn to is reading poetry.  May it be a salve for your hearts.

HARVEST by Carl Sandburg

When the corn stands yellow in September,

A red flower ripens and shines amongst the stalks

And a red silk creeps among the broad ears

And tall tassels lift over all else

and keep a singing

to the prairies

and the wind.


They are the grand lone ones

For they are never saved

along with the corn:


They are cut down

and piled high

and burned.


Their fire

lights the west in November.