So, my readers, have you felt the changes yet? Have you felt the slowing movements of our mother under your feet? I feel her getting sleepy and ready for her winter's rest. I feel the God growing inside of her. I feel the final harvest coming. I smell the beauty of fall surrounding me and I'm coming back to life. I am a child of autumn. I can't wait.
"Ode to Autumn" by John Keats
Season of mists and mellow fruitfulness,
Close bosom-friend of the maturing sun;
Conspiring with him how to load and bless
With fruit the vines that round the thatch-eaves run;
To bend with apples the mossed cottage-trees,
And fill all fruit with ripeness to the core;
To swell the gourd, and plump the hazel shells
With a sweet kernel; to set budding more,
And still more, later flowers for the bees,
Until they think warm days will never cease,
For Summer has o'er-brimmed their clammy cell.
Who hath not seen thee oft amid thy store?
Sometimes whoever seeks abroad may find
Thee sitting careless on a granary floor,
Thy hair soft-lifted by the winnowing wind;
Or on a half-reaped furrow sound asleep,
Drowsed with the fume of poppies, while thy hook
Spares the next swath and all its twined flowers;
And sometimes like a gleaner thou dost keep
Steady thy laden head across a brook;
Or by a cider-press, with patient look,
Thou watchest the last oozings, hours by hours.
Where are the songs of Spring? Ay, where are they?
Think not of them, thou hast thy music too,---
While barred clouds bloom the soft-dying day,
And touch the stubble-plains with rosy hue;
Then in a wailful choir, the small gnats mourn
Among the river sallows, borne aloft
Or sinking as the light wind lives or dies;
And full-grown lambs loud bleat from hilly bourn;
Hedge-crickets sing; and now with treble soft
The redbreast whistles from a garden-croft,
And gathering swallows twitter in the skies.
Close bosom-friend of the maturing sun;
Conspiring with him how to load and bless
With fruit the vines that round the thatch-eaves run;
To bend with apples the mossed cottage-trees,
And fill all fruit with ripeness to the core;
To swell the gourd, and plump the hazel shells
With a sweet kernel; to set budding more,
And still more, later flowers for the bees,
Until they think warm days will never cease,
For Summer has o'er-brimmed their clammy cell.
Who hath not seen thee oft amid thy store?
Sometimes whoever seeks abroad may find
Thee sitting careless on a granary floor,
Thy hair soft-lifted by the winnowing wind;
Or on a half-reaped furrow sound asleep,
Drowsed with the fume of poppies, while thy hook
Spares the next swath and all its twined flowers;
And sometimes like a gleaner thou dost keep
Steady thy laden head across a brook;
Or by a cider-press, with patient look,
Thou watchest the last oozings, hours by hours.
Where are the songs of Spring? Ay, where are they?
Think not of them, thou hast thy music too,---
While barred clouds bloom the soft-dying day,
And touch the stubble-plains with rosy hue;
Then in a wailful choir, the small gnats mourn
Among the river sallows, borne aloft
Or sinking as the light wind lives or dies;
And full-grown lambs loud bleat from hilly bourn;
Hedge-crickets sing; and now with treble soft
The redbreast whistles from a garden-croft,
And gathering swallows twitter in the skies.
4 comments:
Not only am I feeling it, but I am hearing the "turning," as well. I have noticed the tree leaves talking in crisper voices as color changes begin to ruffle their edges. What a glorious time this be!
P.S. Please come for a visit, do: I Hope They Have Pudding ~~ Thank you kindly!
While I don't see any turning leaves and it isn't particularly cool down here in South Carolina yet, I can feel Autumn stirring deep in my bones. I'll be heading to NJ in a week to visit my family and friends and I can just feel Autumn beckoning me northward for the Equinox. It's perfect timing. :)
Definitely feeling it! Some of the trees are changing now too. It seems to have come on so fast, but it's been shifting for a while now.
Really great poem!
Awww Bless... I love autumn, it is my favorite time - when it comes I can feel a quietening deep within.. Were I am living presently, there is not real defined seasons, my birds have babies in winter and flowers that should lay dormant waiting for spring, flourish. Soon I am moving back to the East Coast and I will rejoice in the cool of the autumn days and I will welcome with open arms the Crone as she walks silently across the land.. Enjoy your Autumn days...
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