The Chapel

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The Chapel

"Do you know what the earth meditates upon in Autumn?"  Pablo Neruda

Autumn's mid-afternoon sun
slants just so, backyard a chapel,
St. Francis almost drowning in gold and scarlet,
no need for fancy vestments
as Fall's bounty provides the finery.

With arms raised, the congregation
of maple and oak offer adoration, swaying,
genuflecting, perhaps remembering
summer's sumptuous behavior,
pleading forgiveness as October's eve,
with cool eye, seemingly judges.

A squirrel scampers along a branch,
acorn, not eucharist, upon his tongue,
although upon reflection,
from mighty Oak it came,
offering sustenance, offering life...

and so I join this thanksgiving,
submit to the Su(o)ns warmth
and Autumn's gracious sanctuary,
strip myself of worries and wants,
lean against Maple, pray
for God's love to strengthen me.

by Margaret Bednar, October 23, 2019

This is linked with "dVerse - Tuesday Poetics - The Question as Poetry" and "Poets United - Midweek Motif - Forgiveness"

pondering on the ending... for God's love to enlighten me.  to fortify me.  to grow within me.  to renew me.  

Last Stand

Last Stand

Tremulous stalks sway
where once crickets fiddled their way,
nightly concerts played

now silenced as frosty nights
lick quivering petals,

tickle mountainsides bursting aflame;
defiant southern rebels
dressed not in gray

but majestic golds, purples, and reds,
arms raised toward the sun
in surrender.

by Margaret Bednar, October 22, 2019

This is linked with "dVerse - Quadrille #90 - quiver"  44 words