Time. It’s restless and hard to find. Sneaking up on you, it leaves without remorse. Both friend and enemy, and I find myself wrestling with the beautiful butterflies of excitement and reminiscences that twirl in my stomach.
In less than two weeks, a new season of adventure begins. Just as the leaves change every new autumn, so must everything else from tank tops to sweaters and flip-flops to boots. Now, like red and yellow leaves, I’m falling into the reality that everything is about to change.
Time is sneaking up on me, and my emotions are torn. Every day I say a few more “good-bye’s” and “see ya later’s”. I’m not a crier, so tears don’t usually fall, but it feels like they could. There is this feeling at the pit of my stomach begging for a few extra minutes on the clock.
It’s weird though because simultaneously I want to jump and laugh with excitement as thoughts of my squad and the adventure we’re embarking on in 10 days. As soon as I mourn a good-bye, my mind begins to wish I has a fast-forward button.
I can’t decide if I want time to slow down or speed up, but thankfully I can’t make that decision. Time just is, and I’m going with it.
In honor of changing leaves and a changing me, I want to share a poem with you. Last weekend a friend and I went hiking in the Rocky Mountains, and while we were trekking through the woods, I was inspired. God and I, we connect on a special level when we meet in the mountains. Usually I forget the words he speaks to me by the time I get home. This past weekend however, things were different. I want to share it with you because it is the first day of fall, and whether or not you’re preparing to make big life changes, there is beauty in change both expected and unexpected.
I walked among fire and gold.
Up a cliff, and through the woods.
Crackle of death die into new.
Asked of rest in chill autumn air,
from secrets and whisper. Fleece fell off
in persistent pursuit of the crystal blue.
I walked among fire and gold
set ablaze in summer’s flight.
Left in front of right,
drooping eyes drawn.
Warm stones call:
please don’t see in crystal or blue.
But I walked among fire and gold,
and I reached the Bluebird.
Wind smacking brow,
sun gives warmth
Colored my face.
And, we walked in golden fire.
The decent down into the valley,
with views of mountains tops,
promised of rest
because I saw the crystal blue.
