Studio8 - Uniting the Arts

The forest of life is filled with wondrous trees
and each leaf on each tree
is an acquaintance, a loved one, a relative,
a friend.
There are only Four Seasons to each life,
and my Autumn is upon me.
My trees are filled with leaves of every hue,
from the palest green of a young grandchild
to the deep golden red of a fellow poet.

As I walk beneath the dappled shade of memory,
I accept the natural sequence of death;
I mourn the losses, understand that living –
and dying – is chronological.
It is the destiny that takes friends and contemporaries
out of sequence
that saddens me almost beyond my strength.
(My young grandson was one.)

Friends are so dear, so few, so carefully chosen
that when a friend dies,
a friend with whom I have spent hours
exchanging confidences,
whose dear face in a snapshot taken
when we were both young women of childbearing age
brings tears to my eyes,
I wonder Why, why was her span so short?
So this is my Autumn--
may my trees keep their bright leaves a little longer!
Winter is that season of forever,
when my own seared leaf shall fall,
my mighty trees totter, my forest linger
only in printed words –
if that.
Give me my Autumn, my many-leaved Autumn,
my Autumn of red and gold and rust,
and I will not begrudge too greatly
Winter’s final blast.

Nicely done, S.L.


How long exactly
does it take for twenty-five
years of life to pass?

And does it take so
long for the next twenty-five
to follow in suit?

A short poem that poses a question. The first 25 years take 43 years to pass, the next 25 years take 15 years to pass, and after that it's peace and quiet.

all year pass faster than years, in my opinion
but a poem such as this stretches a minute into years of thought
and thought is the fountain of time

It is so wonderful when someone reads a poem you have written and immediately understands what you are trying to say. Thank you, Judih! ♥♥♥

the cycles of life mirror the seasons of nature, it's a fact we cannot deny,
we can help our cause a bit my eating right and such, but in the end it is our acceptance of winter that makes the transition a palpable step into the unknown.......well done, Sue

beautiful imagery
loved it

Thank you, Saw, and thank you, rshreve. Winter is inevitable, but it can also be beautiful ... Sue♥♥♥

just what i've been thinking, and feeling, these last few years... you hate to see the onset of fall, to say nothing of the onset of winter, but fall seems to be the season of wisdom, at least as much as can be summoned under the circumstance. good stuff here (and hard to fully comprehend).

I thank you, mnaz ... glad so many appreciated the metaphors. Sue♥♥♥