a poem for september

september gave me life
and nestled me within its falling leaves, brilliant–
greens, goldens,
tangerines and crimsons
i sense these autumn winds
meandering within my body,
weaving my tapestries.

much of this year has been grey and overcast,
but i still see september rains
glistening on the streets,
tapering off leaves,
the winds part and unite these murky clouds,
so that i may know
that there still is
a clear blue beyond,
so that i may see the fragments of rainbow that
arc along my inner horizons,
the miracles that are birthed,
when sun and rain meet.

some leaves are falling.

others are sprouting,
blooming and becoming.
if only i can allow the rain
to wash the dust away,
i might see my mosaic of life more clearly,
a patchwork quilt
of joy and pain,
friendships and partings,
beauty and memory and colour and wonder,
an archive of everything contained in me,
i might see that every vein
of every leaf
is lined with gentle and immense love,
waiting for me.

and so i stand here, amidst
the pain and tenderness of
growing, changing,
metamorphosising,
i hope that as each september arrives,
i grow–
grow a little older, a little stronger, a little wiser
i hope that in the places i call home,
and that i am yet to wander to,
in the people i love and those i have yet to meet,
and in the safe space within myself,
i will find my footing.