A Poetic Reflection for October
October arrives like a hush between heartbeats—neither the exuberance of summer nor the stillness of winter, but something in between. In Tennessee, the hills wear their golden robes, and the wind carries whispers of memory. It’s a month that invites reflection, not just on nature’s transformation, but on our own.
Legacy in the Leaves
As the leaves fall, I find myself thinking about legacy—not in grand, sweeping terms, but in the quiet way a poem lingers after it’s read. What do we leave behind in the hearts of others? What truths do we gather, like acorns tucked into pockets, to nourish the seasons ahead?
Each poem, like a leaf, is distinct in color, shape and size, and carries its own style.
This month, I’ve been revisiting the roots of my poetic journey. From the first lines penned in devotion to my beloved Tennessee, to the more recent verses that reach beyond state lines and into the shared soul of humanity, each poem feels like a leaf—distinct in color and shape, yet part of a greater canopy. Some were written in joy, others in sorrow, but all carry the fragrance of life.
Reflections of October
October reminds me that poetry is not just about words—it’s about presence. A poem can be a lantern in someone’s fog, a balm for the weary, or a mirror that reflects what we didn’t know we needed to see. And just as trees let go of their leaves without fear, we too must release our words into the world, trusting they’ll find their way.
The lake reflects the beauty, color and serenity of Autumn.
This season, I’m curating a collection that pairs poetry with photography and prose vignettes—a coffee table book that invites readers to linger. It’s a project born of gratitude and wonder, and it’s teaching me that legacy is not built in a single moment, but in the layering of many: a line revised, a title chosen, a truth spoken gently.
I’m also exploring companion pieces—poems that speak to each other across time. One may rise like a morning hymn, while its twin settles like dusk. Together, they form a fuller picture of the emotional landscape we all traverse. These pairings feel especially poignant in October, when contrast is everywhere: light and shadow, warmth and chill, holding on and letting go.
So as the wind turns cooler and the days grow shorter, I invite you to pause with me. Read a poem slowly. Let it settle. Ask what it’s trying to say—not just to your mind, but to your spirit. And if you feel inspired, write your own. The world needs your voice, your vision, your truth.
Poetry is a legacy of presence. And October, with its rustling leaves and amber light, is the perfect time to listen.
This poem, Lonely Leaf, captures the quiet ache and beauty of autumn’s letting go. As the leaf drifts through shifting winds and lands upon a stream, it becomes a metaphor for the soul’s journey—solitary, luminous, and ultimately surrendered to mystery. In the hush of October, its path reminds us that even in descent, there is grace. Enjoy the poem below.
Lonely Leaf
Descending through autumn air
You came late and alone,
Sketched with golden flare
Dancing to the season’s song.
Amid woods pale and gray,
You waved and glided softly by
Finding no place to lay your head
Beneath winter’s gathering sky.
Tumbling and swirling slowly down
On russet field your eye was bent.
Whisked up, up and around,
To higher realms you were sent.
As though on loftier heights
Your heart had been set.
Gusts whirled you to flight,
Landing, calm solitudes you met.
Finally, your light form laid
Upon the gentle stream.
From there the journey you would take,
My mind could only dream.