little lads

Brothers, these boys -

little lads with mutual loves in their young lives,

kin connected by genes and games,

men in the making

with more than just memories in common.

away

The sounds are of the wind in the larch trees

and geese flying overhead or a thumping of a hidden grouse

and the scent in the air is of fallen leaves

and wood smoke and a promise of winter

and all around the trees stand golden in the sunshine

until night comes and a million holes prick the blanketing darkness

and little voices talk on about their day

and cousins' voices talk quietly of many things.

Away....

browns

Slowly the world turns into what seems to be plain and simple brown.

Light shortens and darkness lengthens

and altogether too little time is spent outdoors.

And yet, even the dull can be delicate lace,

and brings honour to the Creator.

Quickly days pass and life can seem too dull and simply mundane,

Joy dulls and dreary overshadows

and altogether too little time is spent in thankfulness,

And yet, even among the brown,

an intricate plan is woven by a loving Father.

To see beauty in the brown days too....

contrasts

more change

Like leaves being blown from reluctant limbs

the starlings too move across an autumn sky.

Years, days, and moments set adrift

in a never ending current of change.

It is the first time mom hasn't been part of my birthday,

the first time I didn't hear those stories for the umpteenth time.

Boy, I miss her today.

change

Golden maple leaves float thick in the air,

exhausted by time and prompted by rain and wind.

It is time for change, for a new season of life.

indian summer

It catches us by surprise, the loveliness of Indian Summer. Days of mid twenties and bright sunshine. Grass is still summer green but trees stand dressed in autumn finery. It draws us from our homes to roam the country side and ooh and aah over gold and orange and crimson.

And each day we wonder, "Is this the last of it, the end of a summer gone too quickly?"