The Sole of September

September meets me at the crossroads of body and spirit.
Its sole—like a footstep—grounds me in its steady rhythm, anchoring me back to myself.
Its soul—like a whisper—reminds me of the deeper alignment I crave, the harmony between God, the earth, and my own heart.

This piece began as a longer free verse meditation, a reflection on September’s grounding and return. From it, I’ve also shaped a shorter lyrical version, a rhyme to carry the same truth in lighter steps. Together, they are two sides of the same presence: the sole and the soul of September.

September’s Soul

September comes with skies of flame,
yet whispers softly, calls my name.
It is a start, yet a return,
a steady place for which I yearn.

The other seasons pull apart,
but September gathers up my heart.
Aligned with God, the earth, the air,
I find myself returning there.

The Sole of September

September comes—
not just with skies of amber fire
or evenings that linger soft on the skin,
but with the quiet insistence
that I find my way back to myself.

 It is a beginning—
a doorway opened by crisp air,
by trees rehearsing the art of release,
by the hush that settles over fields
when the earth shifts its weight.

 But it is also a return—
not to who I was before,
but to the steadiness of alignment,
to the center of me that remembers
what it feels like
to move in rhythm with God,
to stand in sync with the universe.

 Other seasons scatter me—
spring pulling me outward,
summer rushing me forward,
winter folding me inward.
But September gathers me.
It is my reminder,
my compass,
my home.

 And in its beauty,
I find both painter and poet—
the landscape already etched in color,
the lines already pulsing in my veins.
Every sunset a brushstroke,
every evening a stanza,
every dawn a whispered vow
that newness and return
are never opposites—
they are the same hand
turning the same page.

 With Grace & Ink,

   Mai