For Michaelmas

This is how the Manse community garden looked right at the end of summer, a project which was the idea of Fiona. The large boulders in the foreground were labouriously heaved out of the ground in spring, slope terracing was put in place and the garden took off from there. Various people volunteered through the season and produce was offered for a donation at the church. In the back are seen the colourful beehive boxes which were already part of the garden for at least the last couple of years.

Today I will post a poem for Monica Gold which she wrote for the time of Michaelmas. Later on in the weeks after September 29th there will be another Michaelmas poem by the same author.


Michael

Today a broken chain
It's links of gold
Protected Man from heaven
Down to earthly cold.

Now he must find anew
Within himself ways manifold
New living threads to ties of old.

The boat is slim,
The current swift
The lighting dim
And easily
It floats adrift.
Until the Michaelic sign
Shines bright.

It is a sword of iron
Forged at night
Which will provide forever 
Healing light
That guides and enlightens all
Of us who as yet cannot see.

That seriousness alone 
Remains the key that sets us free.