What are you waiting for?

A November Poem

Blurred memories of sun filled days give way to the burnt and bronzed and wet landscape that stretches out before us.

The final hints of life and color fade to brown and bleak, slowly, yet swiftly. A time lapse.

Beckoning us to remember that in our haste and hurry to get there quickly, here, right now, is where life is unfolding.

Here, where the earth turns to mud. The branches turn to bare. The leaves turn to dust. The fruit turns to rot. The sky turns to grey.

Autumn's final pause invites us to turn towards ourselves. To go deep within. Where we can touch the silence that speaks. The stillness that shouts its truth and asks; What are you waiting for?

What else must this fleeting beauty do beyond dying to remind you; to awaken you; to shake loose the memory that you too are earth and branches and blossom and sky

And that your bones and flesh and breath shall too turn to mud and dust and rot. 

Turn to the truth: you are nature.

You are fleeting and you are also forever. 

You are unfolding and you are also fading. 

And only when you are still can you hear what you’ve forgotten

you are also,

wild.

So what are you waiting for?

xo 💞