Animals and birds don't have to be told the season is changing. They just know. Now that Autumn is upon us and leaves are turning color and fluttering in the breeze, birds are flocking together and planning their trip south. Many have left, except for the ones that stay all year.
This is a favorite poem I enjoy all year, but especially this time of year. When I read it out loud I hear the words dance. Just like the leaves. It's a happy poem and reminds me to enjoy life in the moment. And not to fear the future. Tomorrow will take care of itself if we take a little time to prepare for it today.
Something Told the Wild Geese
Something told the wild geese
It was time to go.
Though the fields lay golden
Something whispered,- "Snow."
Leaves were green and stirring,
Berries, luster-glossed,
But beneath warm feathers
Something cautioned,-"Frost."
All the sagging orchards
Steamed with amber spice,
But each wild breast stiffened
At remembered ice.
Something told the wild geese
It was time to fly,-
Summer sun was on their wings,
Winter in their cry.
Rachel Lyman Field
This is a favorite poem I enjoy all year, but especially this time of year. When I read it out loud I hear the words dance. Just like the leaves. It's a happy poem and reminds me to enjoy life in the moment. And not to fear the future. Tomorrow will take care of itself if we take a little time to prepare for it today.
Something Told the Wild Geese
Something told the wild geese
It was time to go.
Though the fields lay golden
Something whispered,- "Snow."
Leaves were green and stirring,
Berries, luster-glossed,
But beneath warm feathers
Something cautioned,-"Frost."
All the sagging orchards
Steamed with amber spice,
But each wild breast stiffened
At remembered ice.
Something told the wild geese
It was time to fly,-
Summer sun was on their wings,
Winter in their cry.
Rachel Lyman Field
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