Autumn at the River 2
Anchored to the earth
Autumn at the River 2
Strolling by the riverside, immersed in autumn’s spell.
Leaves are tinted red and gold, tidal waters swell.
Cat tails, insects, wilting flowers, smell of slackened soil.
Ragged winds and tattered webs, ripened apples fall.
Slats of land lie flat from harvest, pumpkins to be carved.
Stalks of corn ascend, ascend, like ladders to the stars.
Hopeful berries cling to branches, buds persist and bloom.
Farm and river coalesce with timeless sun and moon.Boats with names like Avalon sway gently back and forth.
Fear and grasping dissipate like mist upon the shore.
For now, content to be right here. For now, not wanting more.
Rest here; watching, sensing, waiting. Dwell in sacred wild.
Breathe it in, breathe it all in, arrive, arrive, arrive.Grief belongs to all of this; no need to run or roam.
Anchored to this solemn earth, this wise and ancient dome.
Nothing to change, nothing to fix, nothing to carry alone.
Hear the sound beneath the sound;
A song to guide us home. ♥
Photos © Corry Chaplin 2025
