Libra Ingress

Autumn Calls a Prologue to Fall

 

 

Autumn Falls

Ever deeper,

into setting Sun, call of leaves.

Days diminish.

Secret scent sings grail quests, startling mysteries,

dense synchronicities.

In ceremony gathering hunters leap to frenzied victory, pray to

coalesce blessing --

crepuscular forest, deepening tales, shadow deities.

Ritual brings chthonic beauty, fierce death/wild rebirth.

Energy dervishes, drunk from fruits of Earth, swirl

into ecstasy; face becoming.  Sun dies

from Western skies.

Realign.

 

 

 

Early autumn firelight

reminiscent of witch hunts, ghosts of cavalry,

dire warnings and endless hide and strike.

 

The game, the funhouse, turns deadly.

Sanctuary calls, demanding sacrifice.

The noble phoenix fed on frankenseed

can not rise.

 

Skies descend, dark mirroring.

Smell the woodsmoke, intoxicating, soft and sweet,

masks the taste of bitter bile, secret vomiting,

starving despite harvest's gay array of treats.

Faded, nearly blind, falling in and out of

shamanic fever, primeval native dancers beyond sight,

ripple of tribal beat at the periphery

ecstatic vision dark/light/agony and brilliant breaks

starbright constellations.

 

I am breathing

crisp air of autumn's evening

I am walking

mist obscures my view.

Lost in a vision, in a Van Gogh painting,

hysterical laughter, gut wrenching tears,

a vision of weeping, knees bent and falling

permission I grant me.

 

Traversing worlds,

seasons, years, moments of clarity.

Fall beyond need, wish, to invent boundaries.

 

 

 

Life, the Universe and Everything

(for Patty)

 

 

Let’s talk about life

the one you have and the one you imagined . . .

With all the world of possibilities,

what have you settled for?

Waking up in the cool, cool morning

Autumn crisp — as your lungs reach for air

The sounds, the smells, the awaited adventures

Anticipation . . .

Or merely another day?

Do you long for love in the dark, dusky evening?

Do you count the countless stars,

knowing a miracle is on its way?

Has the chill of eternity captured your imagination?

What anchors you to Earth?

What makes you want to stay?

A journey of a thousand destinies

Written deep within your soul

Traveling daily through all the possibilities

Which are the parts that make you whole?

 

 

 

A Vignette

 

 

It was a simple house in a simple town.

The road was long and winding.

Two men sat on the road.

They were playing cards.

One man had a bottle which was occasionally passed.

They were not playing for any stakes,

But as an excuse for companionship.

It was a simple house in a simple town.

Old gnarled, stately tall trees formed a woods

 that lined the roadway.

It was noon, but the day was overcast;

 not dark, but pleasantly muted.

It was autumn.

The trees were proud of their majestic leaves

of gold and magenta which covered their branches

 and sprinkled the earth.

Small furry creatures occasionally could be seen

amidst the trees, leaves and earth.

The two men were aware of all this in the

 backgrounds of their minds.

They were also aware of the pleasantness

 of their peaceful companionship

 as they played cards, passed the bottle

 and made casual conversation about this and that.

It was a simple house in a simple town

 by the side of a long and windy road

 which was surrounded by woods.

A plane passed overhead

and was briefly a part of this scene,

 before moving on to more important places.

 

 

 

 

 

In deep field dreams

rustic woodfire comfort

blesses autumn morn

 

 

love like breeze through leaves,

song of future longing,

autumn in the wind

 

 

 

Libra

 

 

The scales of Justice

Yin and Yang

The interchange of love

A world in perfect balance

Twixt summer/winter extremes

The perfect beauty of sun shining

on rainbow puddles

reflecting the brilliant colors

of changing leaves.

 

 

 

Entering into a joy of its own

a love long forgotten, yet never

denied . . .

Deeply felt, deeply buried in

memory's tomb

deeply covered in resplendent autumn leaves.

Empty pockets of longing

temporarily filled by tears which

tumble through.like coins

through torn clothing

hard earned but never spent;

I weep for you.

I feel deeply the worn, spent soul.

Entering into a joy of its own,

not looking back.

The creeping darkness of Autumn

Ancient gray, descending,

Awaiting fulfillment.