Come Sit and Rest
(Ode on All Souls Day)
~ by Lisa Ann Reilich, 2.Nov.2023
This last storm there was just wind
and rain; It barely made a dent.
I laugh out loud in the swirling and the wet —
“At least it isn’t snow! I don’t have to shovel!”
It took some days for the heaviness
to take over my feeling of good fortune.
It took passing Great Grandma Maple,
or more circling her three limbs now sprawled
in deep prayer around her, one still dangerously
suspended in the sky by Sister Spruce, caught
in her arms, as in heartbreak, mid fall.
Passing by was no longer possible.
Circling was all that was left.
Once they held up my heavens and defined
every waking sky from my bedroom window.
Harbingers of Spring; Stark companions through Winter.
Now, like deflated lawn ornaments, they are heavy,
no longer buoyant, and block my daily way
on rounds to field, barns, raspberries overgrown.
Yet still there is the old oak swing on her
remaining narrow branch, vaulted starkly upwards,
dressing herself in remnants of Autumn treasures,
somewhat apologetic now and insecure it seems
without her sisters filling her out against the sky.
Great Grandma Maple, still giving in her sorrow
all she can, whispers —
“Here,” she beckons, “Come sit and rest awhile
Dear Child as in old days. Rest here on Cousin Swing.
We can hold you still my Child, bear your weight
and worries. Swing on my arm as before while you rest.
You are weary from this day like us all.
And I do.
Grateful for her embrace
on this day and so many