This seems particularly appropriate today. I was delighted to hear this reading of Tennyson’s poem, Ulysses, by Helen Mirren on the Stephen Colbert show. It’s good to remember that while we change, what we are, remains . . . and a few tears along the way are just fine.
No haiku today. Yesterday, I wandered along Burfoot Park beach during low tide with a friend. The air was crisp, and the sun shimmered across Budd Inlet. As we wandered along, we found someone had left a flower path for others to follow. I love unexpected finds like this! They challenge one’s mind and spirit to find connections and create stories — why is this here? What does it mean? Would could it mean? Does the brilliantly colored bloom amid pebbles, rocks and sand speak of hope and growth? Does it tell the story that beauty and grace will always be found, even — and perhaps especially — in the most unexpected places? What does it speak to your soul?
Just a wee bit of something to think about as autumn winds down and
winter prepares to take charge:
Is this really the time to sleep? With autumn leaves crunching 'neath
booted feet? Our mittened-hands tucked
silently behind our stiffened backs and firmly closed minds?
Listen to the wind whistling through skeletal limbs,
feel the rain drizzling down on shamefully bowed heads.
Is this the time we dare to do?
To embrace the challenge of life's renewal?
Is this the time we cross the line, reach our hand
to our brothers and sisters in pain, to the the children in want,
and the strangers in vain? Or is this the time we
yet turn away,
wait for the spring?