October Offerings – Part XXI: Something to Delight both Head and Heart

“Give me juicy autumnal fruit, ripe and red from the orchard.” – Walt Whitman
aWhitman

“The magic of autumn has seized the countryside; now that the sun isn’t ripening anything it shines for the sake of the golden age; for the sake of Eden; to please the moon for all I know.” – Elizabeth Coatsworth
aCoatsworth

“Time remorselessly rambles down the corridors and streets of our lives. but it is not until autumn that most of us become aware that our tickets are stamped with a terminal destination.” ― Joe L. Wheeler
aWheeler

A Poem for Today

“Digging 2,”
By Edward Thomas

To-day I think
Only with scents, – scents dead leaves yield,
And bracken, and wild carrot’s seed,
And the square mustard field;

Odours that rise
When the spade wounds the root of tree,
Rose, currant, raspberry, or goutweed,
Rhubarb or celery;

The smoke’s smell, too,
Flowing from where a bonfire burns
The dead, the waste, the dangerous,
And all to sweetness turns.

It is enough
To smell, to crumble the dark earth,
While the robin sings over again
Sad songs of Autumn mirth.
aThomas

“Autumn is no time to lie alone.” ― Murasaki Shikibu

Below – Henri de Toulouse-Lautrec: “In Bed”
aMurasaki

“Such days of autumnal decline hold a strange mystery which adds to the gravity of all our moods.” – Charles Nodier
aNodier

A Second Poem for Today

“A Vagabond Song,”
By Bliss Carmen

There is something in the autumn that is native to my blood —
Touch of manner, hint of mood;
And my heart is like a rhyme,
With the yellow and the purple and the crimson keeping time.

The scarlet of the maples can shake me like a cry
Of bugles going by.
And my lonely spirit thrills
To see the frosty asters like a smoke upon the hills.

There is something in October sets the gypsy blood astir;
We must rise and follow her,
When from every hill of flame
She calls and calls each vagabond by name.
aCarmen

“The music of the far-away summer flutters around the Autumn, seeking its former nest.” – Rabindranath Tagore
aTagore

“Then summer fades and passes, and October comes. Will smell smoke then, and feel an unsuspected sharpness, a thrill of nervous, swift elation, a sense of sadness and departure.” – Thomas Wolfe
aWolfe

“October was a beautiful month at Green Gables, when the birches in the hollow turned as golden as sunshine and the maples behind the orchard were royal crimson and the wild cherry trees along the lane put on the loveliest shades of dark red and bronzy green, while the fields sunned themselves in the aftermaths. Anne reveled in the world of color about her… ‘I’m so glad I live in a world where there are Octobers. It would be terrible if we just skipped from September to November, wouldn’t it?’” – Lucy Maud Montgomery

Below – Green Gables in Autumn
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A Poem for Today

“Clambering Up Cold Mountain Path,”
By Han Shan (translation by Gary Snyder)

Clambering up the Cold Mountain path,
The Cold Mountain trail goes on and on:
The long gorge choked with scree and boulders,
The wide creek, the mist-blurred grass.
The moss is slippery, though there’s been no rain
The pine sings, but there’s no wind.
Who can leap the world’s ties
And sit with me among the white clouds?
aSnyder

“Once in a while i am struck
all over again… by just how blue
the sky appears .. on wind-played
autumn mornings, blue enough
to bruise a heart.” ― Sanober Khan
aKhan

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