Oh it is that time…

Oh it is that time…
The tail of September whipping away like a frantic sail cramming summer things undone. The sun is becoming golden, leaves have started to fall, the grounds moist and so deep in green. Unlike last year, I walk where the sun rays, where the angels wait to nudge us our way as we soak our senses back to waking.
I was told that nobody reads anymore? That we are choosing to be hypnotised by little clips from people unknown as we hide from all the grace between heaven and earth. That we shrink from the sun and snuggle with darkness? But then, I am writing and you, still reading beyond 7 words. I still have playing mantis with wooden toys, adorned with books bound the old fashion way with pages that curls in time. I still refreshes the window, reflecting and celebrating all the season from summer to winter. You will see the collected acorns….cracked with summer stains, a few have lost their crowns. They will hang high again from a found branch closer to the sky. Bees wax luminaries will flicker again. The wood of cedar,  the plant dyed silk will tempt your fingers for a feel.
Kids and adults will stop and wonder again. Pick up a nature’s offering and

smile like the human-KIND we are.
I am unyielding to new things that makes life even shorter. I always stop to smell a lavander, pick up a feather, kick a puddle after a rainfall……dry a few petals from a once fresh blossom . Without waiting for a star to fall, hold my breath and make a wish .
Dance, sing and play!
OH YES, it is that time to live.
Imelda Mccain
September 29,2022