A Love Letter to Autumn.
I love when it’s dark earlier and I am less afraid of silence.
I love when it’s dark earlier and I am less afraid of silence.
The leaves shake and swirl, distant campfires scent the air with smoke and mystery.
I set aside everything and drink Earl Grey tea all afternoon. The blue sky slices into me. There is not a goddamn cloud in sight and my heart feels so cozy and at home. I find my voice again. A continual returning. One word at a time. Be steady and patient, now.
I recall what it sounds like to speak with deep clarity — the kind we can’t be talked out of, the kind no one can take from us. It’s precious.
All in nothing, all in everything, a love letter to Autumn.
A love letter to the dead things, the bad things, the boundaries we struggle to set, the lost at sea moments, the words we cannot find, the strange joy in growing even (especially) when it’s uncomfortable.
A love letter to uncertainty and chaos. To trusting that we will always find the way. To poetry —
A speck, a sparkle, a song to the dust of stars
Sapphires in the early evening sky
As summer flowers die and old patterns must be shed
Not an option, a demand.
We are hungry to dig our fingernails
Into the fresh dirt…
