On the Cusp

LAST DAYS

Things are
changing; things are starting to
spin, snap, fly off into
the blue sleeve of the long
afternoon. ๐˜–๐˜ฉ and ๐˜ฐ๐˜ฐ๐˜ฉ

come whistling out of the perished mouth
of the grass, as things
turn soft, boil back
into substance and hue. As everything,
forgetting its own enchantment, whispers:
I too love oblivion why not it is full
of second chances. ๐˜•๐˜ฐ๐˜ธ,
hiss the bright curls of the leaves. ๐˜•๐˜ฐ๐˜ธ!
booms the muscle of the wind.

– Mary Oliver –
(Twelve Moons)

Author: Katharine Weinmann

attending to the inner life to live and lead with kindness, clarity and wisdom; writing to find the beauty in her wabi sabi life

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