I do not know if the seasons remember their history or if the days and
nights by which we count time remember their own passing.
I do not know if the oak tree remembers its planting or if the pine
remembers its slow climb toward sun and stars.
I do not know if the squirrel remembers last fall's gathering or if the
bluejay remembers the meaning of snow.
I do not know if the air remembers September or if the night remembers
I do not know if the earth remembers the flowers from last spring or if
the evergreen remembers that it shall stay so.
Perhaps that is the reason for our births—to be the memory for
Perhaps salvation is something very different than anyone ever expected.
Perhaps this will be the only question we will have to answer:
"What can you tell me about September?"
"September Meditation" by Burton D. Carley. © Burton D. Carley. [Curator's Note: The source of this poem is often listed online as the 1997 UUMA Worship Materials Collection, but I can't locate the poem in that document. I therefore have no good authority for the format of the poem's presentation in this post.]
Image credit: "Oak Tree in Autumn," hand-painted in watercolors with ink out-lines on Arches watercolor paper (hot press), by Lisa Winne © 2011 (originally color).