Not too many seasons ago I was able to go back and visit my Mom before she past away. She was only partly in this world and it started me thinking about this march of time we call a life and how the days march on no matter what we do. My Mom at the end of her life is December Girl.
Others are represented by their location in the year. This angel is represented as youth facing October. It’s been a couple years since I wrote this, and her time has moved deeply into winter. There is hope that she will be able reverse the timeline and through the miracle of today’s medicine to recapture much that has rushed by.
This makes my present problems seem so trite in comparison.
Trish we are praying for you. May God’s will be done.
December Girl
Coming home to a winter wonderland,Approaching the fall
Or does it just seem that way?
Midsummer is more accurate
The chatter in my mind errors to later seasons
Building ladders of evidence in support
Others (closer to the new year than to spring) party in not knowing
How Old? Two and three quarters—full of joy for the new day
Full of the unbridled Way
Martyrs in front have shown their Way
Least resistance or inevitable outcome?
Such a fool—thinking was on the different Way
Feeling the piercing gazes of those behind
Break the mold completely
No, August always follows July.
Forge another Way,
Seeds planted earlier bear fruit latter on.
Wisdom from those ahead,
Love for those behind,
Presence within the now
Young ones approaching October are hard to bear
We experience the weariness of the autumn leaves
Mine earned
Theirs incomprehensible
December girl flies all day unencumbered
But a couple toes remain in the stream of this world
Gone is the need for sustenance and presence.
Now has been over taken by the all at once.
Lessons from December girl—season of the big birth.
From Musings of a Deaf Mute©
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