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Archive for October, 2012

Haiku and Loku Days-Autumn Mist Lullaby

© Jo Hewitt THE TEAL MANGO, 2012

Yesterday, as I drove to work, I met with a blanket of mist and fog. A cold wind had beaten the usually jubilant leaves into quiet submission on the ground-for some,  a dreary day, indeed, especially after such vibrancy of the day before.

It seems so much of life is like this-after those moments which seem so perfect, that because they seem so few and we wait so long in between, how can this happen? How can life do this to us? It seems so unfair.

We have so much to do. Our days are so busy, so many obligations. Our days, weeks, months, years, our lifetimes are just much to short for everything we have to do. We don’t have time to eat or sleep some days. We are human doings and those cloudy, dank days get in the way.

Well, maybe not. Perhaps truly we are human beings masquerading as human doings. Even though this is the realm of doing, there is a time of respite and recharge for all creation. Seasons and cycles- night follows day, and the seasons turn. Our bodies recharge in the night season.  Autumn going into winter is the time for nature to recharge. We are spiritual beings temporarily hanging out with material bodies.  Just as we need to eat and sleep to recharge our physical body, we need to recharge our spiritual body.

On those misty gray days, as Mother Nature is cradling her own, she invites us into her warm embrace, to snuggle, to momentarily turn from the material world and let our souls recharge, wrapped in spirit.

Instead of meeting those days with disdain, maybe embrace them. Such a gift.

Autumn Mist Lullaby

sleep, lilting one, sleep
graying clouds hush autumn’s glow
lyric surge soft low
mindful slumber, breathe
blanket mist lulls heart below
dream mist calls the soul
Misty Fall Day 

Golden Spirit Leaf Notes: Soul Songs On a Blustery October Day

© Jo Hewitt THE TEAL MANGO, 2012

The SSB Drever and I went for a jaunt yesterday, around our usual haunts-the Heights and the Square. A cool October day insists upon comfy jeans and shoes, sweater, and of course a scarf and beret. Always the fashion plate, the SSB wore  her always-in-style caramel, butterscotch coat with the white trim. Jaunty apparel for a brisk, jaunty walk.

With SSB Drever’s nails clicking out the beat, we walked on the stone and brick path I love. We walked by the school where sunflowers grow. We stopped in at the dog bakery-treat of course. We chatted at the vet’s-another treat and a weigh in-ugh. (we both could use to lose a few pounds). All in all, a happy walk, a happy day.

Ah, but more than happy-magical, surreal. What is it about the intense blue sky, a chorus line of fronds of grass with seed laden plumes swaying, the remains of summer flowers peaking out on cue for their final cameos, white clouds padding around softly so as not to disturb the show? An then, the scene that pulls you in. It starts with the trees subtly, dropping their summer robes, just a little to get your attention.

Then-the dance begins-the leaves, everywhere-flitting, flirting, laughing, calling you to join in the joy. Sing and dance with them, maybe not outwardly, but in your heart and in your soul.  You may not be aware of the words, but your soul knows them. They are eternal words to an eternal melody of spirit and life.

Does it not seem strange that at a time of seeming decay there is such vibrancy and life! It is like the locust leaving the shell, the butterfly emerging from the cocoon, but bigger! Bigger than the universe and bigger than life itself. It is one of those moments of utter release of spirit, the dance of the soul in this realm and beyond.

That was one moment in one day in one October. But as I stood there, with my feet planted firmly on brick and stone, with The SSB Drever by my side, my soul danced with the sunlit leaves above my head. I am in the October of my life. And, there are signs of decay of my world here. But I will make all my October days a spirit dance of sunshine and laughter, a whirling dance of crimson and gold beneath a cerulean sky and I will meet my soul.

Golden Spirit Leaf Notes: Soul Songs On a Blustery October Day

Windblown autumn leaves
Darting sunlight leaves, red, gold
What delight they hold
Windblown autumn leaves
Whirling, twirling sunlight chase
Leaf laughter embrace
Windblown autumn leaves
Flit, alight, ignite soul song
Joyous spirit song
Windblown autumn leaves
Flit askance, you dance ’round me
My soul dance with You


Nymphs Dancing 1912, by Mark Senior.

Haiku and Loku Days-The Last Rose of Summer

© Jo Hewitt THE TEAL MANGO, 2012

The SSB Drever and I were walking around Jewel Square and the lovely houses in the Golden Heights area. I am still amazed to find roses blooming in October in this area. Even with the strange climate patterns and events, even though the past couple years haven’t seen much frost until November or December, with each rose I see, I think “Will this be the last rose of summer?”

That song-“The Last Rose of Summer” always make me think of my mother. Years, so many years ago, when I was given the luxury of piano lessons for 2-3 years, my mother whose limited lessons had been short of half a century before mine, played for me one of her favorite songs-“The Last Rose of Summer”.

The last rose of summer and perhaps the last summer for the rose. My mother is 96 and doing well for her age. But signs of the process of transition from this realm to the next have begun. Of course it is a process that could take years or sometimes only months or less. There are physical changes and behavioral changes.

None of us know which will be the last month, the last year, the last summer. As I walk through dappled sun and shade, as I walk through the paradox of warmth of the sun and the coolness of a changing wind, I don’t know. I dont’ know which rose will be the last rose of summer and I don’t know which will be the last summer. And as winter grows nearer, I am mindful of each one I encounter. And for the ones growing in my garden, I cut them and bring them in, bring the fragrance close to me. But I always leave one or two with the hope that the season will be a little longer, and the winds of time, my time, will be scented with roses-a little longer.

The Last Rose of Summer

Last Rose of Summer-music          
Fragrant -memories

Roses bloom-miraculous
Last Rose of Summer-music
Old piano-melody
By-gone days-re-main
Petals fall, whisper-music
Spirit bridge calls me

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