Sunday, November 23, 2014
November Afternoon (poem by Dorothy)
November Afternoon
Only four o’clock
and already
the light is fading.
As if there were only a certain amount
of allotted sunshine each year
and we were approaching our limit.
On the radio Dvorak
and in here solitude,
the joy of whole minutes
“remembering who we are”
and also the vague rising from below,
what if? what if? what can we cling to
in a world riddled with uncertainties
and loss?
In between numbers,
the announcer wants us to
buy things:
automobiles, electronic devices,
whole houses, even.
But I can no longer drive
and don't understand
the new gadgets.
I have my tiny home.
What would one do
with an entire house?
Now, all has changed.
Fulfillment comes
not from having
but from relinquishment,
letting go,
preparing for the final
releasing into the light.
Dorothy Walters
November 14, 2014
