In autumn, the trees start to sing once again
of the bittersweet mystery of change.
Is it beauty or pain
now attached to my soul?
Is it grief…or relief…or nostalgia?In the scarlet and gold,
the blood red of life’s hold on my heart
and the warmth of its love
mingles memories and years
into afternoon tears
falling softly as leaves to the ground.
— Priscilla Galasso,from “The King’s Gift” ©1997
Tag Archives: fall
Weekly Photo Challenge: Temporary
This is my absolute favorite time of year. Fall colors resonate deeply with me, and I feel like I belong on this tapestry. Browns and golds and greens reflect in my eyes, red and burgundy flow in my veins. I always feel a little sad as the season begins. I feel even sadder as it ends. There’s something about this heroic explosion of color as the world marches slowly toward winter that makes me feel triumphant and nostalgic to the point of tears. This moment is temporary, but it holds the seeds of eternity and the losses of the past in its grip. It is a complex and fleeting experience, a poignant mood that sweeps by like a leaf on the wind.
And soon color will be a memory.
Weekly Photo Challenge: Nostalgia
Back in 1997, I self-published a book of poetry called The King’s Gift: Poems and Parables. It contained this one that I titled “Change”:
In autumn, the trees start to sing once again
of the bittersweet mystery of change.
Is it beauty or pain
now attached to my soul?
Is it grief…
…or relief…
…or nostalgia?
In the scarlet and gold,
the blood-red of life’s hold on my heart
and the warmth of its love
mingles memories and years
into afternoon tears
falling softly
…as leaves…
…to the ground.
I feel this way every fall. The change in light makes everything seem altered and thrown back into the past — until my eyes adjust and my brain catches up. Then the brilliance of the season kicks in. I really love Fall for its ability to draw out a range of emotion and hold it, fully aware and unashamed, in its transient environment.
Text and photographs © 2016, Priscilla Galasso. Poetry © 1997, Priscilla Galasso. All rights reserved.