Do you see? In gutters, guilding themselves on pavements, golden confetti to golden carpet; do you see, the Time of the Fallen Stars is here. They flip and fold the stage of sky meets ground, these dancers of deep space. In the thousands they fall. Do you make a wish? Each time you see one fluttering fumbling the air to feather the streets?
On my bike I fly through their flapping flurrying fury and I feel enveloped in heaven..............
People talk, they talk of these 'leaves', but I know better. They fling themselves in hope of the catch. I collect their small auburn bodies and press tender their autumn embodiment. With them I close the capsules of time, so they stay golden stars forever.
Let go, says October. Forever, I claim.
The crisp cold curls briskly and day brightens with a cruel snap. Your senses wake up. Lick your lips and taste her texture. AUTUMN. Fresh. Dry. Numb. New. Old.
October is my favourite. Despite the fact I have a thing for octagons, life serves a purpose to the soul in October. Nature ages and sheds the skin of her various children. Out with the old, in with the new. It tells of let go. Of preparation for the essential hibernation.
Halloween too. Meaning giving thanks for the year's harvest, thanks for the processes the year has gifted, expression of inner demons and conflicts so as not to nurture them into the new year. Oh, HALLOWEEN
Appropriately I will be dressed as a Phoenix; it being my year of the Phoenix, and to honour the let go process at the let go festivity
I hope you catch your star this year, and understand that she falls for freedom too.
Stars and Stirrings
Llewella xxx
On my bike I fly through their flapping flurrying fury and I feel enveloped in heaven..............
People talk, they talk of these 'leaves', but I know better. They fling themselves in hope of the catch. I collect their small auburn bodies and press tender their autumn embodiment. With them I close the capsules of time, so they stay golden stars forever.
Let go, says October. Forever, I claim.
The crisp cold curls briskly and day brightens with a cruel snap. Your senses wake up. Lick your lips and taste her texture. AUTUMN. Fresh. Dry. Numb. New. Old.
October is my favourite. Despite the fact I have a thing for octagons, life serves a purpose to the soul in October. Nature ages and sheds the skin of her various children. Out with the old, in with the new. It tells of let go. Of preparation for the essential hibernation.
Halloween too. Meaning giving thanks for the year's harvest, thanks for the processes the year has gifted, expression of inner demons and conflicts so as not to nurture them into the new year. Oh, HALLOWEEN
Appropriately I will be dressed as a Phoenix; it being my year of the Phoenix, and to honour the let go process at the let go festivity
I hope you catch your star this year, and understand that she falls for freedom too.
Stars and Stirrings
Llewella xxx
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Thank you everyone. xxx