In October

so has the soul found itself lost among the green and golds of

fading summers so as to hear only the soughing of the wind

of the beginning and the end and yet that is Christ's name too

Alpha and Omega always in every story and there is Glory

and there is a hope beyond all seasons ;

so has the soul found itself to be reasoning not;

a drift of pale lemon across a vacant sky

exiled on earth turning inward 

turning inward as the day was long

and the frosts, all early.

this is autumn and the end of days

formerly as they were spent though

not of music though you cannot tell

where it all went giddy as the leaves

departing suddenly

leaving the branches to mourn.

so the soul has shed gold, peach gold and time

but still, not music.

mary angela douglas 27 october 2021