For Autumn

Throughout this past year we have touched on many subjects, one of which is taking the perspective of the other. The following is a poem by Mary Oliver where she peeks our curiosity of another’s perspective. 
If you are not accustomed to reading poetry, it can feel intimidating. Here is the invitation: read Mary’s poem. Read it three times. Take your time. We can often get caught in the thought, “I don’t get this!” which can tempt us to read it quickly or not at all. I invite you to lay that all aside, and listen as you read. Listen to the words.  Listen to your body’s response as you read. 
Song for Autumn
by Mary Oliver
In the deep fall
don’t you imagine the leaves think how
comfortable it will be to touch
the earth instead of the
nothingness of air and the endless
freshets of wind? And don’t you think
the trees themselves, especially those with mossy,
warm caves, begin to think
of the birds that will come — six, a dozen — to sleep
inside their bodies? And don’t you hear
the goldenrod whispering goodbye,
the everlasting being crowned with the first
tuffets of snow? The pond
vanishes, and the white field over which
the fox runs so quickly brings out
its blue shadows. And the wind pumps its
bellows. And at evening especially,
the piled firewood shifts a little,
longing to be on its way.

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