Don't let them blow away

I walked out on a blowy day
I thought as I went along my way
At how the world is so full of people
Cars and houses too.
So many different clothes and faces
So many different colours and races

And then I felt a burden come
To know the meaning of this one
What am I, one man, to do
With so many souls
Just passing through?

So there I sat upon a bench
Until I thought my heart would wrench
I asked the Father to speak to me
What is my life supposed to be?

The the wind blew
Gusting strong
And all the leaves started racing along
They scurried and skipped
And danced and tripped

My thoughts were stirred
My gaze fixed upon
As if God had just
"where I blow....men follow along"
They have no choice but to live and then die,
To blow from here to where, and why?

In a lull, the wind abated
The rushing stopped, next gust awaited
A passer-by without asking why
Just stopped and picked up a tumbled leaf...
My heart skipped a beat
I leapt from my seat! 

Again the multitude raced by
And I quickly stopped one which caught my eye
Then I stumbled after the next
Gathering, laughing
Out of breath!

On and on they aimlessly raced
But I'd saved a few from an unknown place

To stop and hold these passing leaves
Brought great joy, at last, to me
I realised exactly what God would say
"These leaves are like souls...don't let them blow away".

Joe Morriss
2005

A Mother's touch

Beneath the morning grey she bends
Within her clasped hands coloured flowers
Whilst as the mourning grave she tends
And whiles away a lonely hour.

Her son, the grown man
No longer sees
What looking up she sees of him,
As sun falls through the autumn leaves
And the homely Robin sings his hymn.

A violet bunch of varied stems
Heather, Vetch and Tare
her aged fingers parting them
And placing each with care.

Each year remembered
This stony bed
A fragrant beauty feels
As life long ended rests its head
Where a mother's touch has healed.


Joe Morriss
October 5th 2014

Golden Leaves - all hallows eve

These golden leaves
On all the trees
Make me wonder
If we'll ever see
The Kingdom come
And then we'll run
With golden crowns into the sun.

The gentle breeze
That stirs those leaves
Soothes my mind and memories
Of things we've done
And all the fun
We had while tales around us spun

This is the eve
Of Saints' reprieve
Before their bright eternity
All pain has gone
With God the son
As Christ the risen saviour comes.

Joe Morriss

30th October 2011

Autumn

There's goodness abounds at Autumn time

If only you know where to look

There's change and subtle beauty

In wood and field and brook

With golden leaves next copper bronze

And early evening's Blackbird songs

Acorn, nut and bright red berry

And fresh brown soil

Which makes the apple merry.

There's goodness abounds at Autumn time

If only you have time to wait

The mellow sun turns green to gold

And daisies dance around the gate.

Morning's dew in misty fields

and across the valley

The harvest bell peals.

Furrowed earth by tractor tilled

And every barn with grain is filled

There's goodness abounds at Autumn time

If only you don't mind the grey

The air's still warm and bonfires burn

And kids come out to play

The summer calf is fully grown

And all his grass is neatly mown

Leaf and branch

To the winds are thrown

The verdant Virginia creeper glows

Deep red with approaching age

Fallen fruit is mature and yellow

Like the hand which turns this season's page.

Joe Morriss

October 2006

Winds of Change

The winds are blowing through again

Changing the season as it comes to an end

Four winds blow...

Strong North, Soothing South, Howling West, and Bitter East.

The winds are blowing through again

The undercurrent of a shifting climate

The trees stir into life from their long summer's rest

And whisper of the coming rain

Soon to stand stripped, bleak and bare,

They show a final parade of beauty and flare

Of colour and fuller reds and golds

Than any king or queen could wear.

Spring has gently sung its soothing song

And Summer blazed and breathed its hot breath

All day long, and parched the green earth.

While Winter waited.

Now Autumn blows and blows, and the leaves fall.

The grey clouds race by in the November sky

And melancholy moods are caught up

And tossed and whirled down wet drains,

And left to straggle the bedraggled lanes.

Even so,

My heart is moved by the wind,

It's the sound of hope as something new rushes in

And even though,

In this season we will see decay,

The new earth is only a few breaths away.

Joe Morriss

4th November 2010