Here you come again, punctual as ever, reminding me of all my to-do’s yet undone, but thanks for the invitation to dream and to change.
Do you remember, September? Of course, you do.
I can tell it’s you by the nip in the air. The dynamic sunsets and wilting plants, once green and upright. Your hints that my days too are numbered are anything but subtle.
Don’t get me wrong, I am grateful to be here and bear witness to your drama of changing colors and shifting light and winds.
You just stride right in, kicking up ragweed and allergies as you toss about for the perfect place to make your mark.
“Deal with it,” you say, as you suck dry our summer’s glow, setting the stage for dry skin and cold, weary bones.
That’s the thing about you, September — always dependable in the way you slyly tuck yourself under our skin.
I do love how you mingle change and chance to energize our everyday practices and bring us closer to our greatest aspirations.
“So what have you made of yourself so far this year?”
You are lovely, inquiring September, but predictably unyielding.
This time, deepen our inquiry of who we are by filling us with beautiful questions to live, especially as we face the complexity of things we cannot, and do not understand.
Sashaying September, grant us your sweetest hope, the one that leads to trusting our potential, and our beauty within to guide us.