November Morning

Its not withstanding the urgency
of breath and feeling,
molding into those things which
we say and do within our masks,
hiding in each moment.
But there are times,
when letting guards down,
we recognize our real faces
and wings unfurl
in the cold light of a November morning.
Wedge of deep silver
shadowed against the breast
of stone and water
opening isthmus arms
crux of land and sky
embracing water, earth deep,
bronze and gold, russet, indigo.
And leaving the warmth of bed and nights embrace,
I stretch toward the dark dawn,
aware of all mortality and grace
and the singular thought of ones life.
This too shall pass and like the meadow grasses
separating grain from chaff,
my soul will someday join the autumn wind
and sing shining into the cold morning.

today

 
is this the day we feared
shadows have fallen
and taken us by surprise
though we saw the storm on the horizon
 
we were happy in the sun
carefree and senseless
drunk with the goodness and bounty
of the riches bestowed
 
is now the time when winter
comes roaring and the last
of our provisions are meted
out of time and warmth
 
is this the day we feared
are the wolves not at our door
but already feeding on our young

nothing but ripe apples

my garden is on this side of Eden,
neighbor
to the tree and angels and such
 
we nod as we go about our daily chores
weeding and mulching and limbing up
the stragglers growing against the fence
 
I wonder what all the fuss is about,
reading the news.
when we live this side of paradise
 
and there is nothing but ripe apples
and bittersweet vine
separating us
from each other

A Farewell

HPIM0832
In one week, I am leaving the house on the cove in the center of the Ozarks.

We have lived in this home for over 18 years and in the Ozarks for over 30. This land is one of the great loves of my life.

But now we leave.

Moving one thousand miles to the east. To the foothills of the Smoky Mountains and a new life.

I will miss this land of steep ridges and deep fern green hollows. And I don’t know how my writing will change. This beloved land has been my muse for now much of my adult life.

sunset

I am excited for this new adventure. And it has all happened with such suddenness and energy that I have no doubt it is exactly what and where we are supposed to be.

And with that certainty, I have little grief over leaving. I know I am being given another great love of my life in our new home. A home very much like my beloved shack in Arkansas, but this time tucked into the foothills of the Smoky Mountains in a small village in western North Carolina.

My husband is going home to the state of his birth and home to his family.

We are both going home to a place we never dreamed of until a few months ago.

I will keep in touch, Dear Reader, and I will find a voice in that new place and my writing will follow its course – The Course of Our Seasons – a new and beautiful adventure.

Kathleen