Creatureliness

at the cusp of autumn

Find your creatureliness
in how your feet touch the ground,
carrying you forward, sometimes, and 
sometimes not, like on days time stands still
or seems to move backward. Find it
in how your face turns toward sun
shining warmth on a cold day, or how 
mist rising from the lake coats your skin 
with a cloak of contrast. Find it
in the way a cool drink of water
revives your spirit and refreshes your senses. 
Find it in the way your nose seeks scent, 
luring you toward nourishment or how your tongue
helps you turn food into life's energy. Find it
in how you prowl the night when you can't sleep
and how you cradle your young in a nest of your own making. 
Find your creatureliness deep within
where it has always been and will always be.

Were I the mink
rarely seen, almost an apparition
making a home by the lake,
unannounced and glad of it. 

I would stalk solitude
like the heron stalks fish: 
still and silent until moving
becomes essential for survival.

I would go about my days
content with what is, 
centered in the truth
that just living is enough.

Autumn is the season
of going to ground.

Crane calls once more overhead
before flying south to warmer waters. 

Beaver retires to his lodge, 
summer's work surrounding and supporting. 

Coyote trots across spent fields
brown rustling stalks waving in her wake.

Fallen foliage nestles earth
intent on starting the transition to soil.

Bear returns to her den, drowsy
and already dreaming of dinner in spring. 

Toad burrows in a muddy nest
content to wait til thaw to emerge. 

Rocks go cold and frost goes deep
wild things dependent on winter's sleep.

Some poems as we stand on the cusp of a new season, at least here in Minnesota where the leaves are just starting to take on a new hue and the nights have a distinct chill. Summer’s not quite over, but soon we’ll be in the season of ‘going to ground’¹ as autumn claims its place for the year.

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Event notes:

I’ll be at Pleasant Valley Orchard helping Twinflower Books with bookselling on Sunday, September 15. Stop by! You can pick up a book by a local author, including any of my titles.

And then Saturday, September 21, I’ll be at the Marine Mills Folks School Fall Festival from 10am to 4pm with books and some poetry activities. I think this is my fourth year at this event, and it’s always a good time.

I always set up a white board with different prompts to generate a few collective poems, so come to the festival and add a line! If you’re too far away, here’s a prompt to engage with virtually ….add a line of your own in the comments. (Build from the line left by the person before you! Community poems are fun.)

When wind collides with the scent of autumn,

………

1. A phrase that originated in a prompt from Writing the Wild, a year long nature writing course.