Arrival

A poem by Steven Andrus

Photo by Steve Pham on Unsplash

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There is an opening
to wonder 
that only comes
with the eager darkness
of an aging year.

Things seen 
that could not be seen, 
hidden by lively 
summer leaves.

The creek below
singing its way
to the Chesapeake,
the eagle perched
above its banks
searching with wise
and hungry eyes.

It's not easy,
but a necessary thing,
a blessed thing,
to let go of the light.
To grow old with the world
and tumble gracefully 
into the dark, cool folds
of an ancient arrival.