On Living Authentically

A café is my solace on a wintry Autumn day,
I look out through the window,
Thick clouds, grey and white, fill the sky.
The leaves are falling from the trees like tears,
I think they know my grief.
They swirl endlessly in the wind, unable to rest, not knowing where to land.
I think they know my confused thoughts, my perplexed emotions, my longing to find peace,
but finding only turmoil.

Winter will soon follow Autumn.
Will my days become even colder and darker?
My nights longer and blacker too?
Spring and Summer seem a long way off,
Across a gulf I don’t want to cross.

I look up from this page and out the window again,
Amid the thick heavy clouds is a patch of bright blue,
And a long flurry of clouds are glowing silvery white.
Signs of hope, they lift my spirit.

Grief will have its seasons,
As inevitable as the seasons of the year,
And as essential too.
Autumn and Winter bring the painful gift of discovering and accepting what is lost,
Spring is full of hope of a new life emerging in its abundance,
Summer will be rich and green again,
And the trees will have new leaves.

The years will roll on, and the seasons too.
Summer will have its storms and cloudy days,
But Winter will have days of bright, sunny skies,
As grief and healing continue hand in hand.

Next Autumn I’m sure the leaves will fall again,
Not only as tears of grief this time,
But as dancers celebrating joyful memories,
Of a loved one and our years together.

Ian James
29th April 2015