Autumn Acorns

I am coming to life and dying at the same time.
I fell asleep when the trees were pink and red — new and vibrant. 

I wake up and the leaves are yellow and orange — seasoned and pure. 

What happened while my eyes were closed?

I am coming to life and dying at the same time.

While my eyes were closed, my body, mind, and spirit were learning how to die.

They weren’t dying, they were learning how to die.

Now that I am awake, they are dying.

I am ready to come to life, which also means I am ready to die

I am coming to life and dying at the same time.

Moments ago I heard, “Let the acorn go,” 

Words resonating deep within my spirit. 

It shook me to my core.

It shook me so fiercely; I am still recovering.

In some ways, I am still shaken.

I am coming to life and dying at the same time.

It is Fall.

The leaves have changed—they are changing still.

The leaves are falling —falling to the ground.

With the fall of the soft leaves comes the thud of the hard acorns.

I hear the clank as they fall onto the dock — 

The plop when they drop into the water — 

And the swoosh as they find their bed in the grass slips by me unnoticed.

I hear the sounds of their falling as the trees let them go and leave them to produce new life

Apart from the life they produced with the tree

I still cannot let go as naturally as the tree releases this small, round, life-giving creation I have come to love.

I am coming to life and dying at the same time.

“Let the acorn go”

These words haunt my soul now more than ever

This strong, understated nut is supposed to bring new life

I thought it would bring new life for me

I guess it is bringing new life for you

For I —  

I am dying right now

I am falling, like the acorn

We share company on the ground

And we have to let go

For we are both called to new life

 

I am coming to life and dying at the same time.

I am ready to live again

But I will not rush my death

I see very little point in such things

I will not rush the beauty of the seasoned and pure — yellow, orange, and deep red hues

They must be honored 

For dying is no small act

This type of death brings beauty 

They bring beauty

As they learn to let the acorn go 

As they begin to put their learning how to die into practice

They bring beauty

I am coming to life and dying at the same time

I bring beauty

As I learn to die and let the acorn go