In the Fall of the Year
“What is the point of it all when we experience the vortex of interminable depression or, conversely, when we recognize that time is tearing past us like giddy greyhounds? It’s frightening and disorienting that time skates by so fast, and while it’s not as bad as being embedded in the quicksand of loss, we’re filled with dread each time we notice life hotfoot it out of town.” (Stitches, Anne Lamott)
Thoughts on aging in the Fall of a quarantined year. I’m entering the Fall of my life, with a ‘significant’ birthday coinciding with the Fall of a treacherous year, yet there is much to find which is abundant and precious. I think back to my life and see so much I’ve done, but I realize there’s yet much to do…
The Fall of the Year (on my birthday, September 9, 2020)
In the fall of the year,
I saw what I needed to hear:
The sound of gold: the fruit of the vine,
I realized that this life of mine
Reached a new phase, perhaps the last stage,
As I become known as “person of a certain age.”
What about this drive savant?
To tell more of the story, I want.
To talk about guts in the glory —
Do so in the midst of the gory.
Where all ‘round battles rumble
While for many, health, accounts tumble.
Bless me Lord for I have sinned!
I’ve not always been the one needed,
For “we live our years as we live our days” — too often unheeded.
Some of these, hopeless, the quarantine phase:
Head down, indeed, a daze of days.
For me, the next stage: I want one of reason
For it’s the one of reaping — the harvest season,
Of yellow pears and rosy apples, of picking the vine:
Enjoying burgundy, lemon-lime, and aged wine.
The rest of my life, of knowing and being,
And helping and trusting, of listening and seeing,
And speaking…the truth — it’s now or never —
As the Word (Psalm 19) goes out into all the world
Speaking language of spheres, touching,
Hearing the speech that speaks to all years.
This Voice is heard through the universe and stages.
It’s the word in my heart talking through ages,
And as the Final Act expands with impact,
(This final season approaching — Ironically, Year 2020, is my dreary big birthday).
May I see joy and hope, not fear and dread.
Take the difficulties, Life-Giver, turned on their head,
So what’s meant for darkness will be light:
Through it all I will fight the GOOD fight.
I’ll have shown Your mind — the Word You made flesh —
Who lives and breathes and has our being,
Only He keeps us alive with His Seeing!
Who trusts, and has faith, and always believes,
Who exhales sunlight and shines gold on leaves.
Bringing harvesters to tallest wheat stocks,
We prepare the new wineskin, pluck grapes.
I await Your new wine
Which holds the message divine.
All golden and blue of rusty hue so true.
— Not the ‘fall’ of the year but “AUTUMN” so promising:
But Dear Ones dying and bleeding,
Giving with weeping, now blessing and keeping,
Carrying and feeding, thanking and reaping,
While casting shade branch o’er children sleeping.
The last lap, begins with The Fall,
As way back in the genesis of all,
We who took the apple of His tree,
Now are: “the apple of His eye,”
Love it! Doesn’t that say it all?!
Then Joy and Bliss with snowflakes’ first kiss,
Herald coming the birthing place
— the climax ‘Glory Story and Grace’ —
Thus begins the green and the red,
and finally, it’s Christmas!… the gold is so bright:
Shining Love, Wisdom, and Knowledge so Light
And all the worlds’ story arc made True
And everywhere, tinsel and blue;
It’ll go on forever and ever and always be new.
On earth as it is in Heaven, make us new wineskins for new wine!
Not all who wander are lost: 2020 you’ve demanded your cost.
Give us New for the Old, bring the lost to your fold,
Shepherd divine, Savior, Lord mine.
For it’s both:
The final season of my life AND the fourth season of the year,
Met now with growth, ripeness, harvest — not fear!
And tho’ this year has seen too many tears,
I eagerly move into the Fall of my years.
Ripening and delicious, maturity won,
The world is God’s oyster; the fun’s just begun!
