Hearing the Spirits Sing on a November Morning

 

In autumn’s quiet dawn,

shadows lurk, spirits between worlds,

they flit, dancing just out of sight

till light, when mortal forms wake,

and under an azure sky gaze in wonder

as glowing colors break.

The golden hues cannot be named,

nor explained,

but must be experienced and felt instead.

Nature is terrible and beautiful,

like the volcanic eruption,

with its fiery trails that end in destruction,

but the true miracle is the seed

once planted, sometimes with little more, proceeds–

growing, thriving, becoming food for body and soul,

still and all—

it’s up to you, to choose

to worship the volcano,

stand there as the hot lava flows

burying you, and us, and so it goes,

or plant the seed and watch it grow

and in the time before the dawn

and as the world turns in cycles and seasons

be glad for the choice, be happy for reason

as with the spirits dance in joy

though you may not see them anywhere

but know they sing in gentle breezes

and sun-kissed air that greatly pleases,

whispery sighs, floating cries,

“hope is better than despair.”

 

Oberon, Titania and Puck with Fairies Dancing circa 1786 by William Blake 1757-1827

William Blake, Oberon, “Titania and Puck with Fairies Dancing,” [Public Domain), via Wikimedia Commons

 

 

 

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26 thoughts on “Hearing the Spirits Sing on a November Morning

  1. I love the metaphor here, done so poetically. The volcano we currently face would have us think that all we have is doom and gloom, with no offer of light from any source than its eruptions. My hope is to see it fizzle and die before it has a chance to bury us in ash.

    • Thank you so much, Ken.
      I’m glad you caught the metaphor about the volcano we’re facing now. Lots of hot air. 🙂
      Yes, I agree. I’ve no desire to be covered in lava or buried in ash either– and have people come upon us in a thousand years to wonder about us like we do Pompeii and Herculaneum.

  2. I like how Puck shows humor and creates ways for the audience to laugh out loud. The painting had my interest held, but enjoyed your description of the big choice between hope and despair.
    It is my hope to have a choice! 🙂
    I would choose the seeds of new beginnings over the last fiery pain of diving into a volcano, Merril. I try not to joke too much on the subject since I am rather (silly me!)~ Superstitious!

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