Helen "HP" Rivers

If I may

say the quiet part out loud – we’re all a little messed up right now.

Winter seems to be looming heavy

Nothing feels quite right

The wind is muttering under her breath Words to a lullaby, an almost-memory, once-upon dream – something is shifting

Oh dear ones,

How strange to be an autumn leaf

Precious and precarious

Dancing in the breeze –

How deeply wise to hope, to allow ourselves to be where we are – properly shriveled, drained, crispy, crunchy, sacred, scattered, and spent – to fall, blessing this holy unraveling with daydreams and full-hearted

Faith in the coming of Spring.