Buttercup in Umber Earth

Photo by Michael Dziedzic on Unsplash

A Poem by Bethany Peck

It’s starkly bare

all of a sudden,

the horizon outlined

by the spindliness

of the trees,

even the crunch of the leaves

now gone

at this late November date,

when the darkness

descends so quickly

and those sunbeams

that catch fire on trees

spark warmth in the depth

of my eyes.

The sparseness still

speaks to me,

the necessary beginning

of the cycle of rebirth.

And the crispness

of the air, dances

along my cheeks,

filling my lungs

with aliveness,

kisses on my skin

that say keep

breathing in this

refreshing oxygen.

As clouds glow

in orange swirls

in the quickly fading light,

a canopy of reds

deepen in the dusk

an autumnal palette

of life well lived,

and there along the woods

I see, a spark of yellow

smiling up at me

from the umber earth,

catching my eye,

producing a pause,

to slow and see.

I gently bend

and pick the blooming

buttercup,

laughing a little,

because how can this be?

Or maybe, it doesn’t matter,

it is,

and I will delight

in this unexpected beauty,

waiting here just for me,

wonder for the waiting,

when all will renew again,

and these crushed leaves

beneath my feet

become the ground

for a field of her friends

in June.

Bethany is a writer and photographer living near the beautiful Chesapeake Bay in northeastern Maryland. She loves nature and writes about experiencing God's love through creation at bethanypeck.org and on Instagram at @beautiful_purpose_writing. In her day job, she gets to write stories for local ministries in the Baltimore area. She and her dog Hunter stay active by hiking, kayaking, and enjoying long evening walks.