Autumn’s Rhythm and Other Poems

by Jodie Gerling

AUTUMN’S RHYTHM

My shadow is cast

By the Harvest moon,

My feet on frosted ground

Whose earth is now covered

In leaves of rust and brown.

The maple and the oak

Leaves in auburn splendor

Thrive in misty golden light

Until their time comes to

Quietly fall into the night.

The wind sweeps briskly

Over the forest floor,

But hardworking creatures are still.

Leaves change from olive to amber

Of their own free will.

There’s an unforced rhythm

In these wild woods,

Sweet sounding timbre in the timber,

A song that sings to me—

Not much louder than a whisper.

The forest’s song

Is unrehearsed, unstructured

No linear lines to obey.

Autumn brings a powerful change

In the most creative way.

Its vibrance erupts

Without being told—

One leaf, one acorn,

one crisp day at a time.

I learn from its rhythm and song,

And I adopt it as mine.

CREATION’S CATHEDRAL

There’s a peace in the forest

Among the sappy pines,

And this forest restores

my soul every time.

As I look up to its cover

And stare into the inky abyss,

I forget the fear I once had

Of entering its bliss.

The stars stand grounded.

The magnificent elk are hushed.

Nothing here is striving.

Only the breeze does rush.

What I thought I should be afraid of—

This darkness and unknown

Of creatures and shifting shadows—

I now claim my own

Because here I’m alone

With my thoughts, still and present.

I feel stronger near the ancient trunks

By the powerful river, resilient.

I’m only in the presence

Of the buck and doe and fawn,

And none of them shame me.

As I grow courage and press on,

I can dance among the boulders

And twirl freely in the breeze.

I can wade gently in the water

While no one else sees.

The undergrowth can’t judge or correct.

The birds can’t influence or unfriend.

The forest doesn’t laugh at me

Or shatter my confidence again.

My thoughts are free to roam

And wander around wise oaks—

To stargaze up, from pine needles below.

I don’t feel anxious, stressed, or choked.

So, I’ll stay here in the cathedral

Of this wild and peaceful place,

Surrounded by God’s creation,

Filled with His endless grace

A WILD REFRAIN

He sets the height of the rugged cliff.

Then tells it where to plunge down

off the ridge—

Down, down into deep ravines.

Or to polish the backside

Of the waterfall’s rapids.

Then He widens the rocks

That hold the mountain left and right—

A sight

of stones holding stone

Into place, He creates

The strength of the mountain.

The valley meets

somewhere between

That backside and ravine,

Covered through with

Aspen’s lean trunks,

Whose leaves are now like ember,

Whose fallen leaves now pool

Like gold leaf, like the golden rule,

Showing kindness to the stream

That gathers at the base,

Gently carved in place,

Running through the narrow valley.

The peaceful stream gently pushes along

Those leaves that have fallen, gone.

And Autumn’s last

colors drift past the deer,

Slowly sipping beside still waters.

This calm valley tucked in

Below the peaks—so thin—

Etches through,

Makes its way known,

That it’s as important as the tops,

As important as the rocks

that cry out,

that they are

the closest to the sun.

But the valley wind is where

The wildflowers grow strong.

Both the highest and the lowly,

The roughest rocks and the holy,

sacred places below

Hold the wild places tight—

Interlocked, intertwined,

All part of His design.

He holds all things together.

The gift of sunsets on cliffs above

Or the lessons of faith,

mercy, and love

from the base of the valley,

Each echoes His name.

And the wilderness cries out,

And the mountains move

and shout,

And I get to join

In that great refrain.

by Jodie Gerling

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