Two blankets deep
close to the ground
Feeling Mother Earth align my spine and whisper on my neck,
searching the air for songs and humming creatures
so I can greet them and then lay still
in hopes they will mistake me for one of their own.
Lately the days grow shorter, the sun tires earlier, the breeze in the morning turns significantly colder
and I feel the need to steep in the lingering magic of Summer-
The leaves already started saying goodbye to their home in the sky
they tell me they’re ready to meet death
without a shadow of fear as gravity pushes them into the dirt without hesitation.
I wish I had as much faith in rebirth as they do.
But here comes Autumn
as I desperately try to hang on to my wildflowers
and declare that I’m not ready yet-
I’m not ready to shed the golden skin I’ve perfected,
I’m not ready to transform into God-knows-what,
but Father Time doesn’t care if I’m ready or not
whether day by day or as if a sudden hit over the head
Summer ends, Autumn comes
change finds each of us
and drags us deep within-
maybe it’s the only way we’ll face our demons this Winter-
Autumn is here as the friend that first tries to convince us
to transform, to surrender into what appears to be a deep sleep (but is actually a great awakening) as the surrounding world prepares to die
and before a reckless Winter forces us to sit
and meet and name and befriend
all our demons.
A.P. Bastian 