These days I’m busy with the business of becoming an author, a “real” writer. There are agent websites to read, Publisher’s Marketplace postings to analyze, words to polish. And, of course, a new writing project to put real time and effort into. There are new characters to make alive and so these are busy days in deed.
Today is Columbus Day which is a holiday of sorts. Some kids have the day off from school, some don’t. Some businesses are closed, some aren’t. Some think little of this day and some think quite a bit. The historian in me sees this day as a good example of how the winners of wars get to write the history of those wars. The mother in me remembers a very labor-filled day 9 years ago. That year Columbus Day was October 12th. It was a hopeful day for me.
This year Columbus Day is the 8th and is hopeful for different reasons. Those reasons reflect where I am in my life journey. And I’m no less hopeful today.
With Eyes of Hope
The leaves are beginning to flutter down to blanket the grass,
A red and green ying-yang image of life and death connecting.
A morning walk through the garden shows spider webs
Sparkling with diamond dew and hope for sustenance.
This is the season of my hope, even more
Than usual; this October I hope for new beginnings.
Nine years ago was the same hope. And yet different.
Then I had hoped for a second healthy baby to hold in my arms.
She’s nearly nine now, my early birthday gift that year.
October is my season of hope and October is my time of rebirth.
September is my calendar’s end, holding memories of new shoes and notebook paper,
And a baby lost a decade ago in a gush of red.
But October is for birthdays and pumpkin spice and warm sweaters.
For red leaves crunching under foot and dewy spider webs.
This is the month that sustains me. My new year is beginning and
I choose to see the connections of beginnings and ends with eyes of hope.