When autumn silence rules


Resting cold as granite,
your eternal carving lies
among the oak trees’ roots

Where earthworms eat
the leaves and bones,
waiting for the winter’s snow.

But autumn silence rules
as shadows of your naked tree
caress me with its caring fingers
and my hair is wet from tears;

I sit here waiting for the spring,
when alabaster anemones
will send me greetings forth.
A mother’s blessings from below

035a
Linked to Mag Tales and to Real Toads Open Link Monday

October 19, 2014

27 responses to “When autumn silence rules

  1. I love the yew-tree vibe of this churchyard ditty, a bared tree in autumn still providing a mother’s nourishment. Did you mean “her” or “here” in the final stanza? I suppose it works both ways.

  2. Oh! How wonderful to feel her in the whole tree whose roots entwine with hers! I love the tree’s shadow caressing with naked fingers! The title perfectly captures that mood as well.

  3. I am sure Bette Midler sang a song about the Alabaster Anemones …but i like yours better ..
    Cheers mate

  4. Oh Bjorn, I absolutely adore that last stanza:

    “I sit here waiting for the spring,
    when alabaster anemones
    will send me greetings forth.
    A mother’s blessings from below”

    Lovely.

  5. Comfort is hard to find at the graveside of a parent.. you capture that very well in the image of alabaster anemones… an impervious beauty indeed.

  6. This is exceptionally good Bjorn. The seasons, decay and rebirth, and the granite and alabaster… every detail is just right.

  7. I just smacked my open hand to my chest, and my husband came to see what gave me such a jolt. I read your poem to him… And then we discussed the expertise with which your words show the mourning of death and the hope of rebirth… even if as something else.

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