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
lights the west in November.