November
Like much of the northeast, here in Ohio, November has waltzed in on unusually warm weather. I am not complaining, mind you. I enjoy the still warm caress of the sun even as most of the trees are bare, inspiring two haikus.
Starlings 11/1/22
Starlings alighted
Like black leaves on bare branches
Murmuring migrants
Cloudy
Thick clouds break apart
Blue sky and sun always there
I am looking up
And of course, as we move towards election day in the U.S., things are not necessarily looking up. During an online prayer gathering that I sat in on this morning, I felt keenly how much of a group phenomenon our intense political divide has become. We humans have such an animal need to be part of a herd. The group that most reflects fear, the need to blame, and resulting hatred and rigidity draws in millions. The group who wishes to preserve a democratic vision, an educated adherence to reality, to benign cause and effect supporting our diverse population, draws in millions. I am not exempt. Freedom to choose which herd to cling to comes with the possibility of not getting what I deem is best, even if I think we might be headed over a cliff.
Fall is always poignant as the flora and fauna respond to the waning sunlight hours in our part of the world. The cycles of physical change and the inevitable losses are apparent all around us. Loss is tangible and inescapable. On that note, I highly recommend this CD just released by Kim Rosen and Jamie Sieber. Titled, Feast of Losses, Kim embodies famous poems addressing grief and gratitude exquisitely interwoven with music created by Jamie and friends. It is an hour of deep heart opening nourishment. *
This poem came to me as I sat by one of Kendal’s many ponds.
Willow’s Way 10/21/22 Judi Bachrach
Prevailing breezes from the east
collide with billowing gusts from the west
conflicting fronts halt
the slow glide of fallen leaves
across the pond
amassing by the bank
Crisp new recruits
arriving every moment
form a ragged line amid
countermanding currents
caught in the middle
quivering detachments on alert
On shore a thousand
willow thin branches
still dressed in dry green leaves
lift up hallelujah
bow down reverent whirlwind
resilient tendrils alive in sympathy
with those that fall
Trunk unmoved
anchored in the ground of being
our roots seek truth
renewed deep within
stark bare branches against the sky
* To purchase a Feast of Losses as a CD or Download, go to
Hai Ms. Ku
Ha, I think I can now walk faster than you can scooter [well, Maybe, but I’m up for trying]. It would be a lot of fun.
LikeLike
Oh Jac, I am delighted to hear you can beat me in a race! Best news ever. You must have been a stellar rehab man and I am delighted to hear this. You have been in my heart, of course, and all of your family members, adjusting to loss. So much love as our world tumbles along. xoJ
LikeLike
Dearest Judi, On this weirdly warm day in Vermont I sit outside with your haiku,
Thick clouds break apart
Blue sky and sun always there
I am looking up
It’s good to be under the same sky as you.
And love to Jac, who left a comment before me. So many worlds come together here in your blog.
sending oceans and skies full of love,
Bonnie
PS – I listened to Kim & Jami’s CD with 16 people last Thursday night. What a deep and wonderful experience to share in a group!
LikeLike
heart connections have no boundaries and how blessed we are to have Kim and Jamie to set those strings humming. xoJ
LikeLike