I had a dream that I had lost all the tangible things in my life; things I had worked for, exposed as well as hidden away as treasures. I had another dream that I had made a sumptuous buffet of rich, hearty sandwiches and desserts. I was so busy seeing that everyone was fed, when it came time for me all was gone and I was hungry. Both dreams in one night to awake and wonder about the changing of seasons.
The leaves are just beginning to turn. I am thinking they are late this year. Usually they are further along by now. Will there be enough right conditions to deliver them to explosive color or too much rain as to drown them as they mutely say, “I can’t give anymore, all is lost and I have no grande finale.” And when they do, will we love them less?
Still, smells in the air are wafting in and through me, both in expectation of the oncoming season and loss of the one receding. Memories of a year ago ebb and flow like the tide. Tangible losses, intangible gains, I find myself also in between. So I set my sights to the present, living in the moment of what is in front of me, grateful for what I have.
Air, scent and color
No season comes without change
Hellos and good-byes
This week at dversepoetspub the prompt is a haibun, which is prose ending with a haiku. The theme is based on the Japanese word komorebi, light filtered between leaves visually occurring in the Spring and Fall, that in between season.