I found this poem two years ago, not long after our family’s lives all took a fork in the road that was unexpected, un-beckoned and unyielding.
And here we are today….still on the journey. And here you are today….on your own journey.
And something in these last few days — these precious, glorious, sun-baked golden days of September, has surely changed your life. And you will never, ever forget the light, the sensation or the moment.
May this meditation help you remember.
I do not know if the seasons remember their history or if the days and
nights by which we count time remember their own passing.
I do not know if the oak tree remembers its planting or if the pine
remembers its slow climb toward sun and stars.
I do not know if the squirrel remembers last fall’s gathering or if the
bluejay remembers the meaning of snow.
I do not know if the air remembers September
or if the night remembers the moon.
I do not know if the earth remembers the flowers from last spring or if
the evergreen remembers that it shall stay so.
Perhaps that is the reason for our births — to be the memory for creation.
Perhaps salvation is something very different than anyone ever expected.
Perhaps this will be the only question we will have to answer:
“What can you tell me about September?”
~ Burton D. Carley ~