and even the air is changing around me
from warm and sultry
to cool and brisk~
No long hours of light
dappling through summer's leaves,
instead it is the sharp edge
against a branch
that hits and descends and retreats
in such a short time
that before the sun sets,
it is winter
and all is fallow.
In autumn, we harvest what we planted in spring.
We bring in what we cared for through summer~
what was watered and weeded and fertilized.
What was prayed for~
rain would come when it was dry
or stop when it was flooding.
And now, long into the night we work
to get out what we put in~
In hopes that all that was given will return~
that the agreement between us and the land
would be honored
The agreement being,
that if we plant
the land would feed, enrich, grow
each small seed.
Autumn is the gathering of our hope.