Praise the light of late November,
the thin sunlight that goes deep in the bones.
Praise the crows chattering in the oak trees;
though they are clothed in night, they do not
despair. Praise what little there's left:
the small boats of milkweed pods, husks, hulls,
shells, the architecture of trees. Praise the meadow
of dried weeds: yarrow, goldenrod, chicory,
the remains of summer. Praise the blue sky
that hasn't cracked yet. Praise the sun slipping down
behind the beechnuts, praise the quilt of leaves
that covers the grass: Scarlet Oak, Sweet Gum,
Sugar Maple. Though darkness gathers, praise our crazy
fallen world; it's all we have, and it's never enough.
Crooker, Barbara. "Praise Song". Radiance. Word Press, 2005.
Here's hoping you can find a reason or two of your own to praise our "crazy fallen world".
I used to think our woods had no color in the fall but now after the big poplar removal adventure I can see so much beauty among the small trees that were getting choked out. I’m am very thankful they will get their time in the sun now. I’m looking forward to watching them grow.
ReplyDeletePraise dear Barbara Crooker as well! She is a delightful poet! Thanks for sharing this beautiful poem, Bonny!
ReplyDeleteSuch a marvelous poem Bonny! Thank you for sharing. I'm annoyed that my library does not have any of Barbara Crooker's volumes of poetry.
ReplyDeletebeautiful! I love the colors and the variety of what would be considered 'same old same old' views.
ReplyDeleteSurprisingly, we have had a colorful autumn here in TN. I was not expecting it, since we had a late season of drought here that usually signifies dull colors. All the leaves in my backyard fell at once, and the ground was a beautiful patchwork quilt of yellows, browns, greens, and orange. Praise the trees that remind of us of beauty right before winter descends! I love this poem, Bonny! (BTW, this is Becky on my new laptop,)
ReplyDeleteThank you (and Barbara Crooker!) for this perfectly apt poem for right now!
ReplyDelete