O Rhythm behind all rhythms,you, who coax the earth into blooming againwithout ever forcing a single petal—you are the lull between what wasand what will be,and still i resist your tempo.

this season the wind softened,the sun stopped arriving late,and the jasmine spilled its secretsto anyone who dared breathe in.and yet,i almost missed it—the season turning.

it’s strange,how school ends just as summer begins,how our calendars don’t ask if we’re ready,how my child finishes middle schoolwhile i still remember the shape of her toddler laugh.how my little boy is halfway through high schooland looks more like a man than the one wholet me be named “father.”how my own heartkeeps graduating from thingsi never applied for.

you know this, of course.you’ve seen lives bud and breakfor longer than memory holds.still,i want to slow the turning—or at least understand itbefore it’s done.

but you,gentle God of green things and gravity,have never waited for clarity to begin beauty.you simply begin.again and again.

the tides don’t explain themselves.the stars don’t ask permission.the trees let go of old leavesbefore new ones arrive—trusting the unseen choreographyyou’ve sung beneath their bark.

shape in me that kind of trust.like rivers smoothing stone without a plan,like bees that carry gold dust unaware.teach me the holy art of letting a season endwithout needing a reason.remind me how to welcome joyeven while carrying a few stones of sadnessin my pocket.

invite me to notice the sun today,not just for its warmth,but for the fact that it rosewithout being asked.

help me honor this moment,not because it is easy,but because it is real.

and if i forget again,if i clutch the past too tightly,or try to choreograph tomorrow,come like wind through the screen doorand remind me:the miracle is not that life changes—but that i can change, too.

and you,wild and faithful Heartbeat of the world,will not leave me behind.

you walk beside mewith dirt under your fingernails,and stars in your smile,whistling the tunei didn’t know i needed.

amen.or whatever word means:yes to the turn,yes to the tide,yes to the sacred silence of now.

If this prayer/poem speaks to your own changing season, please share it with someone else. I’d love to hear what this time of year is whispering to you too. Leave a comment and tell me what you hear.

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