I wrote this a couple of years ago, but it may speak to you:
Our Lady of Deciduous Grace
She is always nearby, Lush and green, waiting only Your rapt attention, Your heartfelt sorrow, Your raucous joy. You know the ways and forms, The places and the shrines. Fall on your knees, if you still can, Count a prayer on each leaf, A thanks for every root. It will take you some time, All summer, perhaps.
This is your penance For sins you never committed.
When, at summer’s end, Leaves change color and drop, Each turn is a votive flame, Each fall a supplication. Do not turn away; Bring ribbons, or flowers, Candles to hang in the branches. Complement her stark beauty. Listen, and you may hear The sap pulsing slow, at her heart. In winter, she is most like us.
Spring comes slowly, With tentative offerings, Small buds, the barest hint of green. Savor each one, celebrate it. Kneel on the awakening earth And unfurl an answering leaf In yourself.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
(no subject)
Date: 2008-03-06 04:36 pm (UTC)Our Lady of Deciduous Grace
She is always nearby,
Lush and green, waiting only
Your rapt attention,
Your heartfelt sorrow,
Your raucous joy.
You know the ways and forms,
The places and the shrines.
Fall on your knees, if you still can,
Count a prayer on each leaf,
A thanks for every root.
It will take you some time,
All summer, perhaps.
This is your penance
For sins you never committed.
When, at summer’s end,
Leaves change color and drop,
Each turn is a votive flame,
Each fall a supplication.
Do not turn away;
Bring ribbons, or flowers,
Candles to hang in the branches.
Complement her stark beauty.
Listen, and you may hear
The sap pulsing slow, at her heart.
In winter, she is most like us.
Spring comes slowly,
With tentative offerings,
Small buds, the barest hint of green.
Savor each one, celebrate it.
Kneel on the awakening earth
And unfurl an answering leaf
In yourself.