The air grows crisp

As daytime shortens

and colors burst with flame

As nature’s grand finale

Resplendent harvest’s golden mane

The veil between our world and the next grows ever thin

As spirits of the past draw near

and ancient songs begin

In the quiet of the orchard

beneath the silver moon

We feel the presence of the ones who left us so very much too soon

Their whispers in the rustling leaves

their laughter in the breeze

As we gather in the harvest, we feel a sense of peace

The pumpkins and the apples

the corn in yellow rows

Are gifts from earth and sky

as the autumn abundance grows

We honor the toil and sweat

for the seeds that we have sown

We celebrate the thinning veil, the mystical, the night

We reach out to the ancestors and the spirits taking flight

They guide us on our journey

as the path ahead grows dim

And in their wisdom

we find strength

and in their light

we swim

The air vibrates with secrets

as dimensions intertwine

Transcendent truths and visions

are woven throughout

the harvest’s grand design

Okay, your turn:

Do you, like me, feel the presence of lost loved ones so close and near…to your heart…this time of year?

For more on my personal experience and perspective, read here.

I invite you to share your observations, feelings, and experiences by leaving a Reply in the Comments section, below. Soul-to-soul!

The air grows crisp