The leaves lament
Their last colourful dance
As they gracefully sway
In three-quarter time
Making their way
To the earth
Below
Dear Amber and Owen,
Autumn
has always been my favourite time of year, and not just because my birthday’s
in September. When I was little, a teacher made us memorize a poem by Sir
Wilfred Campbell: It began “Along the line of smoky hills / the crimson forest
stands / and all the day the bluejay calls / throughout the autumn lands …” I
fell in love with it. I fell in love with the crisp leaves and their colours,
with the way the autumn air smelled, the way the wheat fields swayed with the
breeze, like an amber ocean, with harvest …
And,
I fell in love with you. Never doubt it. You are more precious to me than
autumn. Imagine how precious you are to the Father. Close your eyes and imagine
…
When
you walk through starched autumn grass, listen to how the leaves sound, inhale
deeply and remember … all of this, He made for you.
Love,
Mom