Sometimes there are only the small things
left for us to cling to when all else
has receded into the folds of the past,
or the mists of an uncertain future.
Merely a moment remembered perhaps,
or a burning hope for what may come,
but it is in this, the power of the heart
to derive what strength it can,
in which I place my life.
It is always Autumn in that moment
for me, golden leaves falling
and making the raking of them
an almost daily chore.
But I wouldn't trade the trees
they fall from for anything,
their beauty being worth the work.
Nor would I trade the journey
that has brought me here by
so many crooked paths,
painful as it may have been.
It has all been worth it,
every wound and every tear,
all those nights spent empty
and searching, looking backward
and in love with memories.
This is worth all the pain I
could ever suffer, all the money
I could ever make, all the
great adventures I may have had.
This moment, looking up
from raking leaves in a yard
and thinking long thoughts,
to see her watching me.
She was pouring love into her
garden, lavishing it with care
as if it were the height of May
and the plants were exploding
into bloom all around her.
It's overcast today, and quiet,
that quiet right before a light snow,
the first snow of the year a few
days before Thanksgiving.
She told me last night about
a Buddhist concept that I had
some trouble wrapping my head
around, something called
loving-kindness, which I have
been thinking on as we go.
I think I understand what it means
now, when our eyes meet in that
moment during a pause from routine.
I'll have to try and ask about it later
when we go inside and eat supper,
but for now, with us as we are, in this
moment I understand.