The rain falls on the mountains like the tears of the Goddess,
Joyous over new life.
Waning light ushers out the fullness of Summer while the world
And its inhabitants ripe
With age, and beauty take their places in the natural cycles
Of birth and rebirth.
Savoring the present and past in an ancient ritual
With which to wipe
Away the “way things are”, and to replace them with a
Warm comforting light
Of how things “will be” in just a scant few naps through
The darkest night.
The sight of these tears causes a pause. During which life views
This change, this path,
And the nearness of lengthening days.
The sound of teardrops
Echo and laugh.
Smells of earth, moldy and decaying yet unformed bodies of
Nutrients and clay,
Waft through the breeze. Breeze
felt by all as the soft loving kiss
Of Mothers who lay
Next to their children. Life
preparing for one more turn in
The wheel of the seasons.
Another time when light and dark turn toward each other, change
Places, light visits and night runs.
A promise of fullness exists side by side the brown grass
And leafless limbs of trees.
Animals rest and prepare for the time when they, too,
Will rise from their knees
And take their places in the long march of life. The impulse to
Replace old with young
So strong. Mature life becomes swollen
with love that is known
Before a life walks among
The living in this world. Love
that will become one with all that
Walks, swims, grows or flies.
Love that will know the tears of the Goddess like the rain which
Falls and never dies.
10/28/2015
