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IMPRESSIONS OF AUTUMN By Barbara Carvallo
 
In the Autumn when the Goddess wears leaves of gold, rust and crimson in Her hair,
I think most particularly of home, hot soup, cider and fresh bread.
This is the nesting urge that Mother Hecate has imprinted in our breasts,
This is the longing to have our loved ones close at hand and safe beneath our roof.
 
September the sweet month with lingering summer days and deliciously cool evenings,
October the holy month with the dark night of Samhain approaching in mystery,
November the transitional month with another change of season coming our way,
These are the trappings of Autumn, of Mother Hecate’s joyous feast before winter’s sleep.
 
I love Autumn – the early Cronehood of the year,
Her perfume is wood mulch and burnt leaves,
Her cloak is a tapestry of mums, orange and black pansies and the last rose of the season,
She is initiated into the ancient wisdom by Mother Hecate and grows white-headed under winter’s mantel before our eyes.

THE COLOR OF THE RAIN By Barbara Carvallo
 
I saw the rain fall to the ground,
Touched softly gold by a hidden sun,
Settle on the magenta face of an open rose,
Like grateful teardrops.
 
I saw the crimson tinted rain fall,
Between the autumn leaves of the fragile Aspen ,
Caressing the Rocky Mountains ,
With the Goddess’ divine passion.
 
I saw the rain fall crystalline white,
On a frozen landscape,
Where all life slept peacefully,
In suspended animation under a blue-gray sky.
 
I saw the rain fall tender green,
Kissing blossoms and slender shoots,
Wrapped in the Goddess’ life giving embrace,
And the Earth was clean and bright and new once again. 

Bio: "Impressions of Autumn" and "The Color of the Rain" is the work of Barbara Carvallo of Northglenn, Colorado.  Barbara lives with her husband, four cats and 40 rose bushes at the foot of the Rockies on the High Plains.  Her poetry is devotional.