Poem from the Color Series: Brown

 

Oh Mother, Mother, of the fields,
Hear my wish - just this!
As all the world descends to muck,
Please hear my autumn wish!

For as leaves fall and waters rise,
And life does rot and ferment,
In coming darkness form the prize -
Sacred process of emergence.

Have collective merge the herd,
That brindling of fur and feather.
And in this liquid chaos found,
A new people altogether.

From waste and slop fresh life be born,
Cured by desiccation.
And as your firm support is warmed,
Arise Nature’s great creation!

-Amber JoAnn