Sibling Assignment #195: The Gentle Hope of Autumn

I gave the sibling assignment this week. "The first day of autumn is September 22nd. Share a poem about the season that appeals to you and why." Sister Carol's post is here. Brother Bill's is here.

The Gentle Hope of Autumn

The many-hued leaves that fall
To nurture the life lying below the ground

The songs of birds trilling out
Lifting our spirits

The chill of mornings that lead
To a day of sunny warmth

The final ripening of fruit
Before the winter chill arrives

The light of dawn when I rise (sometimes)
And the early dusk that calls me
To quiet evenings of thought, prayer and words

Be still as all slows down
Be still in this time of quiet gathering
Be still and listen to Earth going to rest
Be still in peace in the hope of new life to come

For from the dying of Autumn
Comes the birthing of Spring

In the passing of the past
Comes the arrival of the future

In the changing of what has been
Comes what will be

In the moving forward of one generation
Comes the moving in of the next

In the silent listening of questions
Comes the answers for our times

Angela Coleman

I have memories of having autumn poems read to me before I went to sleep when I was a child. I also remember autumn poems that a teacher read, then had us memorize . While reading and rereading poems this week I first noticed the title of this poem. It reminded me why I love autumn. It fills me with gentle hope.

Things begin to slow down. the Earth is going to rest. Moving into autumn I experince the contrast of cold mornings and warm afternoons. We pick ripe tomatoes, then see black vines from frost. Sunflowers are the crowns of the garden, then  their heads bend as if weeping.
The poem spoke of what we do as the season is dying. We get our soil ready for winter, we build up the garden remains to produce compost in the spring, we dry the last rose pedals in a jar by the light.

As the author reminds us, autumn is "quiet evenings of thought, prayer, and words". I am ready for that after a hot summer of busyness and harvesting, tending flowers, and deadheading spent blossoms.

I will now go and listen to the birds trilling, observe the leaves turning, and embrace the gentle hope of autumn.