Saturday, February 20, 2010

Surrender

In late autumn the earth lays down her load, to rest. She has kept tune with The Divine Plan, the rhythms of the sun and the seasons. She sprouted, bloomed then seeded. Now she comes to a much-deserved break and succumbs to a long, dreamless sleep.

Every creature that is out of doors plays a part. On sunny days the honeybees take their last storing flights to the remaining strands of goldenrod and stray blooming asters. The horse is growing her winter coat and all of the birds inclined to do so, have journeyed south.

There is not one yellow petal left on the sunflowers but I leave them standing, colorless, for the Gold Finch who still finds seed there. When the flowers dropped their yellow petals one by one, the Goldfinch shed the yellow coat that he wore which matched them, as if he didn’t want them be dressed shabbily, all alone.

Today he wears a faded garb, which perfectly blends with the spent flower stalks as he sits silently among them. He used to be a dashing fellow but now when he gets up and flies about, you are tempted to think that he is just a leaf broke lose from the tree, like one from the neighboring redbud, partly pale and partly dark and rumpled.

No comments:

Post a Comment

What do you think?