Can you feel the tendrils falling?
Autumnal threads only visible
to the sensory sight of the soul
a receptivity and prenotion
that sweeps over you ever so lightly.
Then, even though the sun is up and shining,
and grassy places still are green,
the changing colors of Autumn
have begun their slow fall,
there is 'something in the air.'
something there unseen.
The chill vaults of the night are opening,
shedding forebodings and worriment's,
tenuous tendrils tumble,
reaping's they are, even so they transport
the emptiness of the unseen seed,
the essence of every new birth
the promise of eternal renewal,
and when that first leaf drops,
seesawing its way to earth,
many may give thanks,
looking forward
to those beautiful hues of death.
Yet these seconds brought exquisite joy
as I watched my young daughter playing with her toys
so peaceful she looked, yet tense too as she played
her concentration intense, she was in a world of her own.
Then rising she flings herself at me laughing with glee
as she babbled, her words not always too clear and mixed up
it is moments like these that set a mum's heart afire
so special, each and everyone a jewel to forever treasure.
To watch her sleeping, her brow furled in sleep
little twitches as she dreams, her legs running
seeing her turn up her nose as cautiously she tastes
then spoons it down with a delighted smile that I return.
"Park, Mummy, park", she demands running to the door
standing there waiting impatiently as I put on her coat
holding hands she skips alongside me giving the odd tug
running round playing on swings and seesawing with her friend
It is the small things in life that give most pleasure
and what is more enchanting than seeing your child have fun
watching them growing up exploring their small worlds
safe in the knowledge you are near as they stretch their horizons
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