Friday, October 7, 2011

Autumn Awakening

Upon my autumn carpet,
its beauty stops my journey.
My thoughts turn from what was to what is,
as I stoop to behold the ruby at my feet.
Red, vibrant, burning with fire,
its fall from grace not long ago.

My fingers slip beneath its delicate features
and I stand holding it gently.
It’s soft within my grasp,
still breathing life from a branch
stretched far overhead.
To my eyes, I lift my perfect treasure,
ready to admire its boastful beauty.

Behold, its ragged edges,
the small scars upon its surface!
Its velvety skin is torn and tattered,
bruisings of brown have begun their assault.
My treasure, thought to be perfect, is,
upon closer inspection, far from it.

My mind slows, and my vision yields.
Beauty lies not in our perfection, my heart whispers,
but in our flaws, by which our vulnerabilities are exposed.
It is in our weaknesses, that our strengths are revealed,
and our strengths shall carry us upon the breeze.
Though we fall,
our beauty does not end.
For all that lies within us, becomes one
with that which catches us,
that which is waiting,
patiently,
to welcome us home.

2 comments:

Powerful Words

Your children are not your children.
They are the sons and daughters of Life's longing for itself.
They come through you but not from you,
And though they are with you yet they belong not to you.

You may give them your love but not your thoughts,
For they have their own thoughts.
You may house their bodies but not their souls,
For their souls dwell in the house of tomorrow,
which you cannot visit, not even in your dreams.
You may strive to be like them,
but seek not to make them like you.
For life goes not backward nor tarries with yesterday.

You are the bows from which your children
as living arrows are sent forth.
The archer sees the mark upon the path of the infinite,
and He bends you with His might
that His arrows may go swift and far.
Let your bending in the archer's hand be for gladness;
For even as He loves the arrow that flies,
so He loves also the bow that is stable. ~Kahlil Gibran