AUTUMN WITTERING

off on another morning stroll
there are smoky clouds
and the sky is spitting
the wet sidewalk finds a single stone
oh sweet the elegance of leaves and a perky wispy wind
overhead I see a few migrants headed home

in my ear Letzter Fruling
speaks the radiance of Grieg’s countryside
spring after winter
and sadness it might be the last
but this is Autumn
my head is clear
the air is fresh
and seemingly no daunting hopelessness

but out of nowhere
a sudden downpour of heaviness that’s so overwhelming
entitlement and poverty
humanity and power
avarice and fury
wars and faith
incivility

these thoughts are relentless
and it’s then I feel a dark day of the soul
I try to move on but even the music I’m listening to seems to wound more than it soothes
and in this moment
I wonder what it’s telling me

my entire jaunt is caught up in a torrent of questioning
time has let go of me
my walk is almost done
I’ll soon be home
yet still my troubling heart
what to do with my thoughts
forget about it and take a shower

I lower my sweated head
and ask for this
one more day of residency
a closer walk on a more well lit path
to be present with pain
to pray even more
give even more
serve all the more
and do better

A poem by Greg Nelson
© 2021 by Poppie’s Hallel
(BMI. Admin. by Amplified Administration)

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