If October is Like May by Corynn Bernhardt

If October is Like May by Corynn Bernhardt

Part I

If October is like that first gust of wind that knocks your hair back,

Makes you pull your jacket in a little tighter,

Like the pop and scrapes of dead leaves already forgotten,

Like orange, red, yellow bursts that has set the trees alight

With an explosion of energy and promise,

Then May is like the first beam of heat breaking through the tree limbs

Where fresh leaves have grown in,

But still the sun penetrates through,

Like the flipping of sandals and pedals of bike tires,

Like the trees set ablaze with orange, red, yellow,

Tearing down new life,

Ashes falling beneath,

On top of their old roots,

They lay the ground for new growth.

Earlier today, I witnessed two yellow lines that were never ending,

Down the middle of my journey.

I saw two white lines, opposing each other, keeping me on the path.

The rest of the surrounding world preaching promise and promising

Danger. I saw experiences the breathe of the tree tops that littered and lined

The sky above, jagged and rough, but always pointing onward up.

I encountered a deer stand still in the surprise of my trek.

Those eyes as frozen as a yellow pond in Michigan in the middle of January.

Her ears as perked as royalty struck by insult, unflinching.

And this, too, has left me on the ground, flat on my back.

Unconscious? Maybe. That bright yellow sun, hot and burning,

Those rays stung my eyes, blinding me.

Yet I still can forward, onward, my feet carrying me towards

A person I thought I knew, bark chips giving way.

But the yellow bar that collided with the bridge of my nose had

A different plan. Flung around like a two-year-old’s toy.

I lay, dazed, on my back, bark chips giving way.

My shoe – only one still intact. The other landed across the playground.

I guess it was tired of walking my feet and finally got the chance to get away.

How my nose aches.

And pours out blood and more blood.

A mother, not mine, at my side, my rescue.

My father trailing not far behind.

A young child’s tear, mine, mixing in with the blood and anguish.

Where did my friend go?

I think out loud, I think my nose is broken.

Once in a dream I was being chased.

But you know how that goes.

You can never run fast enough when someone is chasing you.

They’re always faster, and you are running as if you were underwater.

Strange, too, because our breathing is as such.

Heavy, gasping, searching for air,

The surface getting too far away.

The further down you go,

The closer you get to the bottom,

And the bad guy getting closer.

Part II

I never thought life could be like

Always staring up at the ceiling.

Seemingly holding onto something, close and personal,

Maybe even good, handsome and strong. Maybe.

But never seeing what it is.

Instead of facing the eyes of whom I hold on to,

I turn up my head,

Let me hair fall back between my shoulder blades,

Not really surrendering,

But avoiding.

I never thought I could smile while feeling all of this.

I don’t think I’m feeling,

Just reacting.

A smile to hide the things I don’t know and don’t want to admit.

A smile to share a feeling I don’t have,

A connection we don’t share.

Who is fooling who?

Believe me,

what happened next goes without saying was the most

awkward moment of my life.

I couldn’t tell you who was more shocked:

Him or me?

The worst thing you ever said to me

Was when you said nothing at all.

The worst things you never told me

Were the things I told myself.

These days, I feel like I could never dance again.

How the body contours and shapes

Our emotions, creating lines

Of poetry with my arms and legs. Singing songs

With my feet. Saying I love you

With my eyes. I forgive you

With a turn. I’m leaving you,

With an exit stage left.

Listen. God is talking to you.

He is calling you and wants you to

Follow Him.

This place where we live now

Is no place at all.

But we must live for Him

Here and now,

Because where we truly belong is in Heaven.

In eternal life,

The one you’ve always wanted this one to be,

He will give to you there.

Once, in October, like in every other October,

My little brother was born.

The last one he had, he turned 15.

But I remember the first.

The one where he came into this world.

I sat in the hospital room with a Disney puzzle.

But it is not October, it’s May,

And our trees are still aflame,

Bringing down everything is breathes its yellow breath on,

Only to lay, gently, the foundation of something unthought-of,

Unimaginable,

But beautiful and full of promise all the same.

It’s only May, but why not begin again

Like the trees do as they dissolve

Away and sacrifice themselves for the Earth.