We hunger to be known and understood. We hunger to be loved. We hunger to be at peace inside our own skins. We hunger not just to be fed these things but, often without realizing it, we hunger to feed others these things because they too are starving for them. We hunger not just to be loved but to love, not just to be forgiven but to forgive, not just to be known and understood for all the good times and bad times that for better for worse have made us who we are, but to know and understand each other to the same point of seeing that, in the last analysis, we all have the same good times, the same bad times, and that for that very reason there is no such thing in all the world as anyone who is really a stranger.
The announcement of autumn comes in
Silence. Listen!
The atmosphere is muted. Listen!
The yellow, red, gold-brown leaves rustle,
A few green ones peak here and there.
They tell of another season gone
... another season coming.
Another season of blustery cold winds,
snow and ice. A time with only
the peep of the sparrow.
Another turn of the wheel of Time.
Another turn of the wheel of our lives.