The Gardener Hired On First Day of Fall

For Mary….

This morning, I woke to find September gone.
Perhaps my prayers don’t have sufficient power,
For leaves are falling and summer is withdrawing.
I thought of Mary, whose funeral is today.
Soon, her body will be blest in the cemetery,
Waiting for nothing, wanting nothing,
Beyond pain and suffering,
Cord of life broken as is every stem from branch,
Each leaf seeking its final home and rest.
 
As I write, my heart becomes a mirror,
Reflects tears for all those I’ve lost.
Why meditate upon death at all….?
Except in preparation for the time
When I shall take my leave, like the leaf
Turning now from green to yellow,
Eventually to brown upon the ground.
 
Why am I not depressed?
I think of a gardener hired on first day of fall,
Cultivating the ground, opening a fertile space.
When we fall, we are the new seed,
Dying, germinating, living.
It is those who are left behind
Who deserve our prayers and tears.

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