Time for the annual William Stafford (that lives on the inside of my laptop all year but is particularly apropos in this season):
Assurance
You will never be alone, you hear so deep
a sound when autumn comes. Yellow
pulls across the hills and thrums,
or the silence after lightning before it says
its names - and then the clouds' wide-mouthed
apologies. You were aimed from birth:
you will never be alone. Rain
will come, a gutter filled, an Amazon,
long aisles - you never heard so deep a sound,
moss on rocks, and years. You turn your head
that's what the silence meant: you're not alone
The whole wide world pours down.
William Stafford
billie hinton’s camera-obscura:
life and lessons on November Hill Farm
I'm so glad you visited and commented... :)
ReplyDeleteI have had this particular poem as a sort of mantra for many, many years. It was on my refrigerator through most of my twenties, and now whenever I open my laptop, there it is.
I'm happy you found it here at a good moment.
And, btw, your blog is wonderful -- one of my daily cyber-stops now. You have such a community there.
billie