Trimonthly Triquetra: Late September 2024

 

THE TRIMONTHLY TRIQUETRA

Compiled & Edited by Rob Chappell (@RHCLambengolmo)

Editorial Associate: Sabrina Saelind

Editorial Assistant: Jessica Breckinridge

Vol. 0, No. 2: Late September 2024

 

“Autumn’s Arrival”

 

Editor’s Note

                As the month of September comes to an end, we celebrate with a garland of poems about autumn’s arrival. We begin with an insightful verse about self-discovery as the seasons of life change around us.

 

“A Journey of Discovery”

By Lenaea Bifrost, Staff Writer

 

A journey undertaken, a truth concealed,

Unlocking the secrets that the soul revealed.

Through trials and struggle, the self is found,

Self-discovery, the prize that's unwound.

 

“Autumn”

By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow (1807-1882)

Thou comest, Autumn, heralded by the rain,

With banners, by great gales incessant fanned,

Brighter than brightest silks of Samarkand,

And stately oxen harnessed to thy wain!

Thou standest, like imperial Charlemagne,

Upon thy bridge of gold; thy royal hand

Outstretched with benedictions o’er the land,

Blessing the farms through all thy vast domain!

Thy shield is the red Harvest Moon, suspended

So long beneath the heaven’s o’er-hanging eaves;

Thy steps are by the farmer’s prayers attended;

Like flames upon an altar shine the sheaves;

And, following thee, in thy ovation splendid,

Thine almoner, the wind, scatters the golden leaves!

 

Sophie (pictured above) is the Quotemaster who assists the Editor with preparing the RHC Fortnightly Quotemail twice a month. Here we see her observing the Full Harvest Moon on Tuesday evening, September 17. (Digital image processed by the Editor.)

 

“Autumn”

By William Blake (1757-1827)

O Autumn, laden with fruit, and stained

With the blood of the grape, pass not, but sit

Beneath my shady roof; there thou mayest rest,

And tune thy jolly voice to my fresh pipe,

And all the daughters of the year shall dance!

Sing now the lusty song of fruits and flowers.

“The narrow bud opens her beauties to

The Sun, and love runs in her thrilling veins;

Blossoms hang round the brows of Morning, and

Flourish down the bright cheek of modest Eve,

Till clustering Summer breaks forth into singing,

And feathered clouds strew flowers round her head.

The spirits of the air live on the smells

Of fruit; and Joy, with pinions light, roves round

The gardens, or sits singing in the trees.”

Thus sang the jolly Autumn as he sat;

Then rose, girded himself, and over the bleak

Hills fled from our sight; but left his golden load.

 

“Autumn”

By Emily Dickinson (1830-1886)

 

The morns are meeker than they were,

The nuts are getting brown;

The berry’s cheek is plumper,

The rose is out of town.

The maple wears a gayer scarf,

The field a scarlet gown.

Lest I should be old-fashioned,

I’ll put a trinket on.

 

“The Four Seasons of the Year: Autumn”

By Anne Bradstreet (1612-1672)

Of Autumn months September is the prime,

Now day and night are equal in each Clime,

The twelfth of this Sol riseth in the Line,

And doth in poising Libra this month shine.

The vintage now is ripe, the grapes are prest,

Whose lively liquor oft is cursed and blest:

For nought so good, but it may be abused,

But it’s a precious juice when well it’s used.

The raisins now in clusters dried be,

The Orange, Lemon dangle on the tree:

The Pomegranate, the Fig are ripe also,

And Apples now their yellow sides do show.

Of Almonds, Quinces, Wardens, and of Peach,

The season's now at hand of all and each.

Sure at this time, time first of all began,

And in this month was made apostate Man:

For then in Eden was not only seen,

Boughs full of leaves, or fruits unripe or green,

Or withered stocks, which were all dry and dead,

But trees with goodly fruits replenished;

Which shows nor Summer, Winter nor the Spring

Our Grand-Sire was of Paradice made King:

Nor could that temperate Clime such difference make,

If sited as the most Judicious take.

October is my next, we hear in this

The Northern winter-blasts begin to hiss.

In Scorpio resideth now the Sun,

And his declining heat is almost done.

The fruitless Trees all withered now do stand,

Whose sapless yellow leaves, by winds are fanned,

Which notes when youth and strength have past their prime

Decrepit age must also have its time.

The Sap doth slily creep towards the Earth

There rests, until the Sun give it a birth.

So doth old Age still tend unto his grave,

Where also he his wintertime must have;

But when the Sun of righteousness draws nigh,

His dead old stock, shall mount again on high.

November is my last, for Time doth haste,

We now of winters sharpness 'gins to taste.

This month the Sun's in Sagittarius,

So far remote, his glances warm not us.

Almost at shortest is the shortened day,

The Northern pole beholdeth not one ray.

Now Greenland (Groenland), Finland, Lapland, see

No Sun, to lighten their obscurity:

Poor wretches that in total darkness lye,

With minds more dark then is the darkened Sky.

Beef, Brawn, and Pork are now in great request,

And solid meats our stomachs can digest.

This time warm clothes, full diet, and good fires,

Our pinched flesh, and hungry maws requires:

Old, cold, dry Age and Earth Autumn resembles,

And Melancholy which most of all dissembles.

I must be short, and shorts, the shortened day,

What winter hath to tell, now let him say.

 

Winged Words of Wisdom

By Viviana Rivera, Staff Writer

Ah, Autumn! The season of change, of beauty, of transition. As the days grow shorter and the leaves turn golden, we are reminded of the fleeting nature of time. The crisp air and cool breeze are a prelude to the chill of winter, yet there is something magical about this season - a sense of melancholy, of nostalgia. This is a time for reflection, for taking stock, for letting go of what no longer serves us and embracing the possibilities of what lies ahead. Like the autumnal foliage, we too can transform and grow.

 

Sayings of the Stoic Sages

Contributed by Amy Kendrick, Staff Writer

"Everything has its season, and there is a time for every purpose under heaven" (Ecclesiastes 3:1).

This ancient Stoic proverb, as found in the book of Ecclesiastes in the Old Testament, reminds us that everything in life has its own season and its own time. Change and transformation are a natural part of life, and we should learn to accept and embrace them rather than resisting them.

 

The Dharma Corner

By Lisa Romenor, Staff Writer

Here's one quote that I love. It's from the Tao Te Ching, Chapter 41.

 

"True Words appear paradoxical."

 

According to Buddhist philosophy, the true nature of reality often defies straightforward description or explanation. The Tao is a formless essence, beyond the grasp of words and concepts. Therefore, true words, which attempt to describe it, can appear contradictory or nonsensical upon first inspection. However, these paradoxes often contain a profound truth that can lead to enlightenment when contemplated deeply and meditated upon.