Monday, November 07, 2011

i remember what is true

in the season of harvest and waning
i have come alive.

i remember the richness and roots of my soul.
i remember what is true.

there is pungent earth~
leaf mold, cooling soil and the
indescribable smell of flowing creek.

it is firm.
it is under my feet, grounding.

i begin again before the end.


  1. and the smell in the morning of frost. i stand outside and breathe it in, autumn.

    here's to beginning again.

  2. beautifully told. beginning again. always.


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