Thin Blankets

Photo by Daiga Ellaby on Unsplash

Autumn for me is no longer a time of dying.

No longer thin blankets on a cold night.

Or the last embers of a forgotten fire.

It’s no longer good-byes or letting go.

Because fall is not bringing on the cold of winter.

It’s not banishing the last kiss of warmth.

Or merely shrinking days and darkening mornings.

No. It is the rest before new life.

The necessary pause to recreate and restore.

The repose before the coming spring.

It is the shaking off of the old to put on the garment of joy once more.

So wrap tightly in the old, weary blanket.

The thin place between you and heaven.

Trace the final leaf that releases its grip and floats to the earth.

And breathe.

For the awakening is close.

Cher Gatto