The Light Within

The Angels and Art of Corbin Hollis Choate

Saturday, September 30, 2006

Autumn Afternoon . . .


Autumn has arrived. It is a time of change, a time for reflection, and the most beautiful of all the seasons.

For me, it marks the passing of another year of my life. People come and go and children grow and change is all around.
Have you ever come across an old family photograph that takes you back and floods your mind with memories so real you could touch them?
Maybe a picture of a beloved relative's house where you can see into the open window on a sunny day? Somehow you know that if you could just see around the corner they would be there. . .you could talk to them and share just one more day with them. I found a picture like that. It was a picture of my mom and me standing in front of my aunt and uncle's house on some past Autumn afternoon. Behind us is an open window
where the sunlight streams in to the living room and an open doorway. Part of me knows that there, in that time, is my uncle. . .living, talking and knowing that I am just outside. My aunt took the picture. I used to stay with them nearly every weekend. They are responsible for who I am, and I know that their being there for me saved my life from going in wrong directions. The values of their generation, the greatest generation, were passed on to me.

This poem was written in memory of them. I make it a point to re-read it on those golden Autumn afternoons that seem to never end.

Autumn Afternoon

When you sit and watch the shadows grow long across the room
at the end of a golden Autumn afternoon,
you face the souls who have passed through your life . . .
and come to terms with their absence . . .

The season's light is ever changing and reminds you
that all things must pass,
leaving their mark in ways unknown,
until they are gone . . .

As Autumn's memories fall softly one by one,
in colors too beautiful for words. . . felt only by the heart . . .
they take their place of rest in the shadows of your life.

As the seasons pass, you see never ending reflections of their time . . .
a ray of light, a color that burns intense with love and hope . . .
a promise to return anew in time, when the shadows grow long
at the end of an Autumn afternoon.
- The Light Within . . .

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