There is something
To be said about
Hitting your stride so
Much of early life
Is spent bucking and
Trying to throw off
Then trotting and cantering
Stalling thinking and stopping
And finally running and
Breaking into that long
Beautiful gallop when you’re
At one with wind
On every single path
There’s stones and breadcrumbs
Having been left before
Behind by something other
Always leading never alone
And on we go
Never knowing always wondering
Until finally at last
We eventually get there
Wherever there that is
Only we will know
There’s something about fall
That brings such comfort
Brilliant colors and awe
Trees exploding like fireworks
That last for days
Of layers put on
And eventually taken off
Like the armor we
Wear before meeting someone
And the nakedness after
Of once cold drinks
Migrating to warmer ones
While anticipating the holidays
We live in such
A fast world that
Autumn slows down reminding
That change brings beauty
There comes a time
In every man’s life
When growing from sapling
To tree from trying
To doing and from
Student to teacher only
He knows when it’s
Time to push out
To bud then shade
And eventually fall only
To start over again
Until he becomes something
Else a door floor
Or even a memory
And like a willow
Or a river birch
I found my self
Rooted and simply standing
Often and at times
Victim of the wind
Which wound and weaved
Through the years limbs
And every so often
Men would stumble upon
Me in search of the
The river in which
They swam I drank
Throwing off their clothes
And splashing and diving
In and beneath me
The river their baptism
And me their comfort
HARLAN DIDRICKSON 