I went looking for fall.

I decided I wanted to experience the fall leaves and get outside a bit.  Fall  and colorful leaves are still a novelty to this child of the Evergreen state.  So I found a state park near here, got up Friday, and started driving.  Below are some thoughts that came to me as I explored.

Autumn

Lays a magic carpet

More glamorous 

Than any 5th Ave designers 

Dare to imagine

Once a year

All that is old, wilting, fading

She charms with 

Her trademark spell

Into vibrant colors and shades

Not of youthful spring

But the deep, wise hues 

In red, orange, yellows

As if before ridding herself 

Of what is no longer healthy

She sets a ceremonial fire

To celebrate what was

To remember 

The trees whisper and shake

And the colorful canopy dances

Walk in this glory

Take in the wonder

Follow the trail she has laid

Your feet will know the way

Just go

Until your soul is free

Lighter than a leaf

It sings to the tune

Of this feast of color

And being set free.

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Heartbreak & Broken Glass

Last night, I sat down to write and it was all too much.  Too much suffering, too much sadness, too much worry for friends living through times of suffering and sadness.  I forces myself to write for a bit just tryng to get it out but not really finding any direction. Just swimming in a sea of emotions.

And then as I fell asleep: oh, beach glass.  A poem.  Of course.

Here’s the poem:

 

Beach glass

Broken

Shattered

By raging storms 

Jagged rocks 

Steel hulls 

Ground down as 

The waves relentless

Beat it against the sand

Over

And over

And over

 

Waves pounding in

Flowing out 

Wear down sharp edges

Dulling the shiny veneer

Dimming the brilliance

Just a glimpse 

Of what it once was

 

Bless the sun

That helps it to shine

As it lays peacefully 

At rest on the shore 

After its many trials

 

Bless the beachcomber 

For studying the rocks and debris

Recognizing the beauty 

In a lost shard 

 

Bless the Artist 

That eagerly reclaims

Anoints 

Cherishes

Creates 

Makes whole

Another July 3rd

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Sitting next to Bear Creek.

6 July 2018

Dear Turdel, 

I’m sitting by a river in Minnesota.  I don’t know much about it.  It’s called Bear Creek (according to my phone).  That seems fitting.  Haven’t seen any bears yet.  I’ll let you know.

The Minnesota part: As of two days ago, I live here now.  Rochester specifically.  I never thought of Minnesota as a place I wanted to live.  A good opportunity came along that I couldn’t say no to.  It was hard.  It was also time.  A year ago when I was writing you I was at the end of my rope.  And out of desperation or fear or a messy combo of both I kept going.  Turdel, there were some dark days.  Dark days when I questioned just about everything.

But at the end of May two opportunities finally came up and I chose the one that brought me here next to Bear Creek.  I suppose I’ve done crazier things.  Eight years ago I had been in Chicago for almost a year.  You knew I was in Chicago and called or texted me countless times.  

A new place, a new job, a new life: one that you will never know me doing.  A fully new and blank chapter.  I suppose stories and memories of you will be present here and your picture is already sitting on my floor but that is not the same.  

The world is a crazy place.  I wonder if you would recognize it.  I suppose I am grateful for the past year—I’m also very glad that it’s over. 

Sometimes people ask me how grief is after 8 years: Is it less?  Where does it go?  It’s just different.  It’s seeped into my bones and my soul.  It’s both a part of who I am and a weight that I carry.  I do know that I still want to call and text you.  Maybe that impulse will never go away.  I heard a podcast once about a telephone booth where people could go to sit and have conversations with their dead loved ones to say the things that were still important to say.  The idea isn’t that the phone booth worked in any real way but that there would be space reserved for the important conversations and the grief.  Makes a lot of sense to me.  

So stay tuned for more stores of my Minnesotan life.  Oh, and there’s a bike trail next to Bear Creek so if anyone in this town is up for a bear sighting, it will be me.  

Love, 

Peecasso