I love this time of year, for one reason, because of the tomato harvest from my backyard garden. They just keep coming as the later summer and early fall sun offers ripening each day. The littlest that look like cherry tomatoes are actually “Roma.” Noticeably packed with flavor and great for snacking.
I also love this poem below, by David Whyte, and shared recently by a Fire & Water Participant. The poem speaks to me of an orientation in life, of availability and abundance.
Just like my backyard tomatoes do.
Everything Is Waiting for You
Your great mistake is to act the drama
as if you were alone. As if life
were a progressive and cunning crime
with no witness to the tiny hidden
transgressions. To feel abandoned is to deny
the intimacy of your surroundings. Surely,
even you, at times, have felt the grand array;
the swelling presence, and the chorus, crowding
out your solo voice. You must note
the way the soap dish enables you,
or the window latch grants you freedom.
Alertness is the hidden discipline of familiarity.
The stairs are your mentor of things
to come, the doors have always been there
to frighten you and invite you,
and the tiny speaker in the phone
is your dream-ladder to divinity.
Put down the weight of your aloneness and ease into
the conversation. The kettle is singing even as it pours you a drink, the cooking pots have left their arrogant aloofness and
seen the good in you at last. All the birds
and creatures of the world are unutterably
themselves. Everything is waiting for you.