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The world has come to a stop and is waiting for me.
Powdered mountains shouldering the sky
tower over creek beds running low.
Late Aspen, yellow popsicles standing stubborn
against luminous groves
hold tightly onto colored cloaks
while daylight surrenders meekly to frosty nights.
Pinon and Juniper, old friends
perch like green gumdrops on sturdy slopes
while Rabbitbrush, spent and powdery
touch down on earnest terrain like scattered cloud puffs.
Families of scratchy Serviceberry and Gambel Oak
stand clustered together
peering down into the pasture below.
bands of coyotes positioned strategically
from one ridge to another
send their singing signals into the sleepy night.
Elk, deer, magpie, fox, eagle and bear
take their place in the order of things
while the cottontail stops by each day to check on me.
The air is still, the stars are bright, and heaven is blue.
Banded waves of glowing,
blond grasses listen to what is.
Together in all their instinctive ways,
they are asking me to join them for a spell.
"It doesn't matter now," they say.
"whether you started or finished,
the long toil of a life can wait.
Lay your burdens down,
give your shoulders a rest,
the sky will hold itself up for you.
Perch here with us
and turn your face to the sun.
Allow the frost of worry behind your eyes to melt
so joy can turn green.
Listen for the singing of your soul
to help you remember what it was
that was so very important.
Allow yourself to peer down into your heart
where the truth lies
blond and glowing.
Let your spirit float up
to join the clouds passing
in the cornflower blue of the sky
to remember that yesterday & tomorrow
don't belong in this moment.
Take your place in the order of things.
This is your life."
About this poem
Written on retreat at St. Benedict's Monastery 10-16
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"October Retreat" Poetry.com. STANDS4 LLC, 2022. Web. 29 Sep. 2022. <https://www.poetry.com/poem/133661/october-retreat>.