Remembrance

Moonlight spills benevolent 
from a limitless sky. 
Mother coyote howls 
and the cry of a barred owl 
unravels an ancient memory.  

Is every November this?
The last leaf, the first frost,
the call of travelling geese. 
All remind us that change comes. 

But maybe endings don’t have to finish us. 
They can blend with our beginnings,
they can wake our soul,
they can carry us into wildness. 

In November our soul remembers. 
There is relief in the shorter days
and absolution in the longer nights. 
Our blood recalls the deeper
truths of life and death;
where binaries join and dualities merge. 

You don’t have to notice it.
You don’t have to thank it. 
You only have to open to
the ancestral wisdom in your bones. 

Flying geese: Amara Snakeroot Hollowbones

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Music pairing: Siobhan Miller: The Western Edge

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Image based on Winterberry Bush in November | photo by Diane Perazzo

I hereby declare that this written work is entirely my own creation and was not generated using artificial intelligence. All wording, structure and ideas are the result of my personal effort, knowledge and research.