the remains of the day

i had my daily walk in the gloaming …….soaking up the last vestige of summer……heartbreakingly beautiful today. the smell of newly mown grass ….and earth…..and leaves filled my head…. triggering memories of childhood ……simpler times..... with each step…the melting away of the days stress…..leaving behind a content….peaceful…heart.

returning home in the dark… i grab a much needed cup of coffee…. retreating to the porch where I am the grateful recipient of an amazing sonata of cricket song…… a sliver of moon hanging low in the sky……there is music in my head…..and in my heart……as i slowly rock to the beat of the cricket’s singing…..sipping coffee…..all’s well in my small part of the world………

in fall

the cricket

beneath the rosebush

watches

as the roses fall

to the very ground

that is his kingdom also.

so they're neighbors

one full of fragrance,

the other

the harper

of a single dry song.

we call this time of the year

the beginning of the end

of another circle,

a convenience

and nothing more.

for the cricket's song

is surely a prayer,

and a prayer, when it is given,

is given forever.

this is a truth

i'm sure of,

for i'm older than i used to be,

and therefore i understand things

nobody would think of

who's young and in a hurry.

the snow is very beautiful.

under it are the lingering

petals of fragrance,

and the timeless body

of prayer.

- mary oliver