Walking home last night she sees grey swirls elevated near the curb as she crosses the street. The first frozen puddle she has noticed in the city, autumn’s last month flirting with winter. She knows the days are numbered now. Leading towards the end of this season sometimes feels like walking towards a grave.
fallen to their death leaves spread season’s quilt tucking in the earth
Although logic knows the earth is not dead but asleep…napping for a spell, until spring, the dark of day lacking sunshine makes us feel this way on this cold day of November. Not only does nature seem somnolent but the sun as well, turning in so early.
sun bids farewell yet, it’s only teatime! autumn’s new soirée
No longer can one dine in the evening whilst they admire art displays in the sky. (sigh!) The artist too, has turned in earlier, skipping dinner and off to bed.
painting moods in blues in the darkest hour cleansing of new dawn
One can sometimes hear In the darkest hour awe celestial notes message from the heavens, still, she is not clear…
Nature has its mysteries, that she does not know; makes it all the more appealing, savouring the unknown.
whispers in her ear playing sanguine notes lighting up her soul
She reflects on her evening’s work; so many youths lost in suffering. It makes her think about life, her adult children and her grandson. Her heart filled with love as she walks back home late into the night.
At home, she sits and begins to write…a purging of thoughts flooding her screen that shines brightly like the full moon in the window. All these thoughts, suffering, doubts and concerns fill her screen as she turns her head towards the window, as if the moon has answers.
scrolls by light of the moon,
the early bird chirps
Last night we experience strong winds and in the middle of the night it kept me awake. Tossing and turning, my mind was composing a poem, so I decided to write a poem which I posted entitled “Awaiting dawn”.
intermittent flash signs of ill-health power lines crash eminent for sure if these gusts continue chorus of howls like military troops haunting yowls beyond depths of eternity blow blow blow wind blow keep me awake all night long visions of buildings crashing, floating, hiding for cover broken wail sounds blow, blow blow wind blow you’ve not won in destroying my home power’s still on I’m safe, I am warm then why do I fidget why can I not rest in the dead of this night blow blow blow wind blow the chorus has grown no longer wind sound but high giant waves like tsunami like moan blow blow blow wind blow fear not I stand guard awake thru the night fear not I stand guard ‘till the sun shows its face gold I shall wait for this dawn neither tired or cold I shall wait a bit longer eyes open, alert breathing slow , belaboured suppressing a yawn.
It is interesting how strong winds seem more frightening in the night and yet in the day would it not be more dangerous? I remember walking to bus some mornings on wind days and I felt pushed forward…and I am not a skinny person! I hate to see young children waiting for a bus how scary that might be or crossing a busy intersection…yikes!
In any event, I wrote this poem not really thinking the wind would die down but I knew at the break of day I would not be so frightened. At six am. I took my shower, while coffee was brewing and had not thought of the wind for I was preparing for appointments today.
Sitting down to check my email, I noticed the only sound I could hear were the cars on the boulevard in front of my apartment driving towards the bridge to get to work. I am including two haiku to complete last night. I think the second one is better but the first was my first thought…what do you think?
new dawn gusts sank beneath the skyline sunshine smiles
dawn ascends gusty winds expired, forgiven cool breeze
I reread this beautiful early morning haiku and felt bad that I had not written a more classical haiku with a softer ending that makes you think…a little. I don’t know the names of many birds, most flower and trees. So honestly, Carpe Diem DOES keep me on my toes…haha…and even before that reading many of Georgia’s poems has taught me a little more each day.
I looked at that photo Chèvrefeuille posted with those lovely shiny droplets hanging from the branch and wrote another completion. The only thing I was missing was the name of a bird that IS still here in Quebec, Canada during late autumn and winter months. So I searched again and found this lovely video about winter backyard birds in Canada. I hope you enjoy this as much as I did. Well, I actually learned a think or two…again (grins).