slip-sliding away…..

Have you looked at the sky today?
Have you noticed the leaves changing colour?
Have you seen the mountain, towering in the distance?
Light playing off its surface under skies grey and white.

Has this reminded you
of the ever-changing nature of Life?

How nothing remains constant.
Transformation is always underway.

We begin with Spring:
Welcome to the world!
Everything is new
as you grow into your personhood.

Transition, then, to Summer:
You reach full strength,
doing whatever you wish –
virtually invincible,
the world at your feet,
youth that feels eternal.

Don’t get too comfortable, though,
because next comes Autumn:
Your abilities remain,
yet signs of age emerge.
Strength and vitality fade,
as you see the changes inside and out,
struggling to repeat
what was once so normal…
so easy.

On you go,
shedding the coverings
that make up your identity,
whittling down to the bare essentials
by the time your final season arrives –

Winter:
The season of sparsity,
in which everything dies
(as will you).
Nothing remains
except the core;
trunk and branches sit bare,
holding no life…
no hope.
Desolation.
The end is near.

And you ponder your previous seasons,
perhaps considering
why you planted the seeds you did,
all those decades ago;
remembering what you fed your core,
and seeing
whether that foundation
is now strong enough;
for your heart and soul
is all you’re left with
when everything else
withers and falls away.

And as you pass
through this cold Winter
and reach your demise,
you are buried –
put back into the soil…
the Earth from which your original father was made;
the conclusion
of this phase of your journey.

But that’s not all,
because, one day,
Spring will come once more,
the Resurrection:
your never-dead soul
uniting with a body made anew,
as you are brought forth from the ground –
willing or not.

And as you stand on That Day,
with all of humanity,
in the Grandest Court,
in front of the Highest Judge,
you wait
to learn your fate.

Will it be one of eternal bliss?
One way to Paradise?

Or,
before arriving at the Gates of Majesty,
a detour,
to purify you –
rid you of the blemishes you collected
which could not be purged
either during life
or within your cage in the ground thereafter.

Be not of those
eternally damned –
consigned forever to the Fire,
for arrogant disbelief
and utter rejection
of the Hereafter that was always waiting,
but never urgent enough
to change ways
while there were chances aplenty.

And though the final destination
lies only in God’s Hand,
while still alive, we must strive,
do all that we can.
Plant seeds of beauty,
not those of devastation,
Eternity’s harvest,
A simple equation.

Everything changes;
the signs are all around.
Make best use of your Seasons
before your sky becomes the ground.

---

It’s Autumn here, so every day, I witness the physical changes in nature as we head from the heat of Summer to the desolaton of the coming Winter. And as I pondered the four seasons of the year, it struck me how we, too, live through seasons of life. I think of it as roughly four quarters of an average lifespan, and the train of thought brought this poem.

I took some time refining it, but I still don’t feel it’s good enough to publish.

The ideas themselves are powerful, but I can’t find the eloquence to portray these concepts with the kind of impact I would like. And I know I won’t have time – and likely creative momentum, either – to really panel beat this into the masterpiece I wish it could be.

So, I did the best I could, and put it up now, because I didn’t want it to sit as another incomplete draft that went nowhere.

Maybe, in future, if I am more skilled and find the inspiration, I’ll come back to this and give it the send off it deserves. But for now, I’m afraid this is how it remains.

Around this piece, I also reflected on how most of my pieces are seemingy serious. These grave, philosophical topics which are not ‘fun’…not entertaining, and hence not likely to ever catch on to a wider audience.

And I know that to many people – especially those who only know me in the virtual world – I probably come across as a very serious person. But in real life, I don’t think I am that one dimensional. If anything, I think I am far too UNserious, even immature – childlike (not childish…there’s a difference), by choice and by nature.

Yet when I express myself in writing, its almost always serious. It’s hardly ever fun, or funny, and that is something that bothers me. (The only two examples I can think of which are remotely funny are from when we had unwelcome visitors in our home – this time and this time.)

But I just write as it comes – naturally and authentically. I suspect it wouldn’t come out very well if I forced humour or light heartedness into my writing.

And so, I guess I’ll just go along like this, because authenticity always trumps popularity, in my view.

I don’t know where I’m going with this explanation, but these are just thoughts I’m having, and I wanted to put them down here while they’re fresh.

Perhaps some of you, in your wisdom and with your superior insight, can help me make sense of it all…