"In Heaven It is Always Autumn," how do I love thee? Let me count the ways.
First, I love thee because any poem that links autumn and heaven is intrinsically right and just.
Second, I love thee for lines such as these:
It is the last of many last days. Is it enough?
To rest in this moment? To turn our faces to the sun?
To rest in this moment? To turn our faces to the sun?
To watch the lineaments of a world passing?
In Heaven It Is Always Autumn
by Elizabeth Spires
Third, I love thee because thou art the brainchild of Elizabeth Spires, the author of The Mouse of Amherst, a book which holds the Emily-est of memories for our family.
I hope this poem settles in your bones the same way a quintessential autumn day settles in, deep and golden and passing, but with the promise of warmth and unfolding regeneration in faraway days to come.
In Heaven It Is Always Autumn
by Elizabeth Spires
"In Heaven It Is Always Autumn" ~~ John Donne
In heaven it is always autumn. The leaves are always near
to falling there but never fall, and pairs of souls out walking
heaven's paths no longer feel the weight of years upon them.
Safe in heaven's calm, they take each other's arm,
the light shining through them, all joy and terror gone.
But we are far from heaven here, in a garden ragged and unkept
as Eden would be with the walls knocked down,
....
(Read the rest here.)
heaven's paths no longer feel the weight of years upon them.
Safe in heaven's calm, they take each other's arm,
the light shining through them, all joy and terror gone.
But we are far from heaven here, in a garden ragged and unkept
as Eden would be with the walls knocked down,
....
(Read the rest here.)
~~~~~~~~~~
Read more about Elizabeth Spires here, and head over to the Poetry Friday roundup, which is being hosted this week by the lovely Linda Baie at TeacherDance.



