The Sacred Round by Thelma Palmer
This island is a garden
that circles, loops,and twines it's way through the summer:
winds, honeysuckle round the ancient fir,
sends tendrils spiraling into air,
and rundles bluest buds to hoods and bells.
In Autumn this garden makes
A sweeping curve toward winter:
with ruddy apple cheeks and yellow shapes
of juicy pear, it trims each orchard tree,
and decorates the fields in giant pumpkin globes,
in squashes, blue and gray, with beaded rims.
Next, curling tenderly upon itself,
the garden slows and draws within. It sleeps,
and then, a single rose of birdsong
rings within the winter woods,
the needling holly piques us with it's promise,
Awakening to April sun, this island garden
reaches out once more to close the circle of the year,
and tulip buds and crocus open into chalices
in celebration of the sacred round again.
This poem reminds us that life goes in a circle. We are moving into late fall and following the circle winter will be upon us soon. Wildlife knows this...that's why the birds know when to migrate.We know that winter is coming, so why do we grouse around about it? We know it's coming....why can't we enjoy each day knowing that we have just taken another step in the circle of life?