Athens, Georgia
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| An Autumn Road in the Botanical Garden, photograph by Don Hunter |
Heaven drifts in on an autumn day
when dry leaves filter long moments
and the very air is your lover
when boundaries collapse and being extends
until all is kindness, dappled
in afternoon light.
You inhabit a living songscape
and hear the choir of the wood cricket
humming an ode to existence itself.
A fresh wind renews the sky.
The river course restores its water.
A romp of otters slips upstream.
The whole of life has brought you here —
time, fulfilled in a moment of joy.
Consummation always comes
and afternoon forever fades.
There is an ache at the edge of an autumn day
when time trends toward waning
and earth spins ever away.
There is an ache an octave above pain
a register beyond joy
built in the core of creation
forged in the fire of the long-ago making
when the great winding down began.
There is an ache impressed on the cosmic tapestry
through the ever expanding void.
I am is its cry, ever fading.
There's an urge to return that is etched on us all
but home is a haven gracing the past.
Do you feel the ache inside your soul?
Do you feel the ache inside your soul?
It burns but does not consume.
Heaven is somewhere adjacent to here.
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