When October hits, I become more contemplative and morose. I wonder sometimes if it’s just the weather, or the season of transition or the time in the semester. In reality, it’s probably a confluence of all these things.
Although I don’t have a lot of time to read for fun during the semester, I thought I’d post several collections of poetry that have been keeping me going. They’re beautifully seasonal. I’m grateful for a way to reflect on life and death in a holy space, which I feel an absence of in our culture.
To close, I’m going to leave you all with a quote from Eliot’s Four Quartets, which is one of my all-time favorite poems.
“The dove descending breaks the air
With flame of incandescent terror
Of which the tongues declare
The one discharge from sin and error.
The only hope, or else despair
Lies in the choice of pyre or pyre—
To be redeemed from fire by fire.”