A Soft-Dying Day







Season of mists and mellow fruitfulness, 
        Close bosom-friend of the maturing sun;

Where are the songs of Spring? Ay, where are they?
Think not of them, thou hast thy music too, —
While barred clouds bloom the soft-dying day, 

        And touch the stubble plains with rosy hue —

~John Keats, lines from “To Autumn”




The trees are undressing, and fling in many places—
On the gray road, the roof, the window-sill—
Their radiant robes and ribbons and yellow laces;
A leaf each second so is flung at will,
Here, there, another and another, still and still.
~Thomas Hardy from “Last Week in October”






We think we are mere witness to this,
this transformation happening before our eyes
as unforgiving wind strips leaves from trees
left bare and naked in their bones–

yet we too will be exposed for who we are
under the window dressing we spend so much to create,
too soon nothing is left to cover our flaws
and our bones alone will tell our story of redemption.









2 thoughts on “A Soft-Dying Day

  1. Your words today, Emily, are a somber reminder of the frailty and weaknesses of our human condition — often fraught with an exaggerated feeling of autonomy and independence that falsely assure us that we are perfect, that we have ‘the answers,’ and that we can ‘go it alone, thank you’ … we do not need God — until we confront the painful reality that we are nothing – alone and helpless without inviting His Presence into our lives — His directions for living those lives resident within our hearts and souls…..


  2. Hello Emily,

    I really enjoy your blog. The photos are breathtaking, and the poetry and accompanying thoughts are an invitation to pause and reflect. Thank you.

    I am a spiritual director and was really taken by the fourth photo in this post. I was wondering if I could have your permission to use it when meeting with directees either one on one or in a group setting?

    Thank you for considering this request.



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