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Fall greets the earth as summer slips quietly away.
The seasons are changing, as the leaves shift in color from Emerald Green and Chartreuse
to Russet Browns, antiques of their once fine grandeur,
though still splendid in their beauty.
The color of the leaves, as if painted by hand, so individually crafted.
With swirls of Orange and Coquelicot, the leaves fall as if they are gracing the earth the way a painter graces their canvas.
The air grows cooler, giving way to new glory, breezy winds that whisper, carrying undertones of what is to come.
The lakes feel the chill, and the creatures understand that the changing winds will soon give way to a glacial paradise, an icy oasis.
The changing of the season from summer to fall is one I look forward to,
for there is something in the change that brings back fond memories.
Days filled with love, days spent in front of the fire, snugly wrapped, watching the flames twirl and dance.
Days filled with wonder, days in which my life seemed to move along to a soft and gentle melody that only I could hear.
Days when I held to life, and it met me with grace.
Still now, when I feel the fall winds gently embracing my skin,
I feel the same wonder, and that old melody carries me away again.

-Rhia Clay
I know it's not the season for fall poetry. However, I wanted to share a piece I wrote a while back that brings back fond memories. I hope you'll enjoy it too. :)
Today I stood in the fire, my mind and heart torn with stress, my spirit weary.
And in one moment, someone said the one word I needed to hear, "God."
My weary mind, battling with PTSD and OCD, calmed instantly.
Your peace enveloped me and carried me above the waves, back to shelter, back to grace.
I have never asked for an easy life; I have asked for grace to persevere.
I have asked for grace to show others kindness when my flesh is anything but peaceful, when war has taken me over.
In your wisdom, you have given me grace.
Thank you isn't enough, though maybe if I leave that here on this page, perhaps tonight it will suffice.
-Rhia Clay
Mothers are a gift.
They bear their burdens with such grace,
one would never know of their struggles.
They raise leaders, nurture our future,
and give endlessly,
all with a smile.
She gazed at the dazzling array of stars,
filled with awe and curiosity, cradling her aspirations while serving as a witness to the miracle of life, how a mere spark can evolve into an entire universe, a vast cosmos.
Nearby, a vigilant owl perched silently. Did it contemplate this enigma as well, she mused? Surely, the essence of meaning and wonder isn't exclusive to humanity, she reflected.
Surely, every creature feels the pulse of life within it, and the pull of the unknown.
As if responding to her unspoken question, the great barn owl hooted quietly and unfurled its mighty wings, soaring high into the sky, eager to discover what other marvels awaited it in its palace of trees.
Farewell, dear soul, she whispered gently; perhaps one day soon, I too will spread my wings, and fly away from this place.

-Rhia Clay
Sometimes a person's soul is so beautiful, it breaks your heart,
and it does more than merely awaken.
It makes you question, leaving you a wholly different being than you were before your souls met.
The person you were before,
has been shaken from its shell,
and now has to learn to live in a world that seems foreign, seems out of place.
Life is never the same when we encounter such souls,
and why would we wish it to be?

-Rhia Clay
She had a well-oiled mind.
A kind of thinking that kept a rhythm,
even in chaos.
That kept tapping the well of knowledge until it found what it sought.
That kept time with life,
while feeding the spiritual.
With one foot in the proverbial language of the world,
and one foot in the meadow.
Quick but careful.
She took her time,
in a world where anything tedious was shunned.

-Rhia Clay
Is there anything more gorgeous than a human being rising, greeting their own soul again after the distance nearly tore them apart?  

-Rhia Clay
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