The House of the Rising Earth

The seasonal shift is upon us

here in the land called prairie

it is abrupt and unforgiving

brutal and honest

it follows well-worn paths

alongside which ancient markers

unfaultingly point in the only direction

one can proceed.

It is this time at the end

of the musty summer

that is the time of renewal

of the mind and spirit.

One cannot be human

and consider the future

and be oblivious to the flaws in your plans,

in this the season that strips everything

of every conceit and superficial exterior.

The road is laid out for us

and we can but follow

through the wind and snow

that is sure to come

to the beacon at the far end of it all

that marks the trail that returns

upon itself to the end of time,

which has no end.

But still, we must consider

our choices our decisions

our failings and our triumphs,

and in this consideration

learn not what we should do

or should have done

or how best to carry on

or whom to join

or where to travel

or whether this or that

but simply

who we are.