a yellow pillar of fire

 

Our Gingko

we do have a favorite tree

at our North Carolina home,

a double-trunked ginkgo

that we planted about 1980,

each trunk now maybe eight inches in diameter,

rising near fifty feet toward the sky,

it is in autumn that the tree

can overwhelm any of us 

who experience its transformation

into a pillar of yellow fire,

that pillar can captivate the eyes of any casual passerby

and transform them into a disciple of its beauty,

as I parent, and grandparent,

and when I taught,

I regularly realized that each child

is a center of the universe,

and deserves the centering of the gravity

of attention, love, care upon them,

so too does the ginkgo

deserve to be seen, known, celebrated,

for it endures long past others in its family,

it almost casually stands at attention

and sings to the eye

of what beauty is all about.

by Henry H. Walker

October 30, ‘26

reminding us to care

 

The Day of the Dead

our brothers and sisters to the south

express deep wisdom with their Day of the Dead,

as the celestial year races toward the Winter Solstice,

roughly halfway between it and the Autumnal Equinox,

they celebrate the spirits

of those we care about

who have left us in body

but who are still deeply connected

to us in our hearts,

the Day of the Dead makes sure 

connection and community endure,

for while death has a finality about it,

death cannot control our hearts and memories,

for who we are directly connects to who we were,

and those close to us who have died

still live within our hearts,

who they were is deeply part of who we are,

while we should mourn their passing,

we should also celebrate the power

of who they still are

within the community

that remembers them,

that celebrates them,

the power of the connection 

needs to be tended, to be maintained,

as time works to erase all the gains

each of our lives works hard 

to build with who we are,

we act upon a world

that can seem not to care,

the Day of the Dead reminds us to care.

by Henry H. Walker

October 31, ‘26