While the rose said to the sun,
“I shall ever remember thee,”
her petals fell to the dust.
Rabindranath Tagore
Lately, I’ve been savoring the slow waning of summer. The official opening of fall is still several weeks away, yet all my senses are registering the natural process of shifting from one season to the next. There is the bittersweet simultaneity of appearance and disappearance – bright berries and fruits are abundantly available at the local farmer’s markets, yet there is no longer the youthful lushness of early summer sounds, smells and colors.
In this seasonal shift, there is the subtle yielding of fullness back to the source. The roses that were just recently plump and vibrant are nearly naked. Unlikely the rush of release of leaves by the trees in the fall, the rose has a quieter disrobing. As she releases her petals, each one seems to simply float down to the earth. It is as though she is undoing the spiral of her existence, and returning to the heart of her being.
The letting go of this season seems to be a natural extension of living. There is no separate act or drama around the seeming end of one phase. Instead, it is more like a prayerful expression of reciprocity. There is a feeling of the grace of aliveness in the receiving of the nutrients of life. For the rose, that might be the sunlight, raindrops, and the ground that holds her steady. The returning of those gifts is just as full of beauty as the budding and blossoming.
The timeless turnings of life are forever pure spirit, morphing from form into formless. There is an eternal heartbeat sustaining each petal, leaf, feather, limb, foot, hand, head and heart. The collective we turn together around not only the solar center of our universe, but also the invisible, sacred essence, given many names. All embodiment is fleeting. So, I am learning to receive, savor, and pass along the unspoken gifts of life. Perhaps the tethers of arrogance, greed, clinging, and differencing will soften within this learning. Thank you and all for being part of this moment.
Practice
This practice supports awareness of your inner light.
Prepare—
- Choose a time and place—indoors or outdoors—with minimal distractions.
- Sit comfortably on an even, firm surface. Rest the backs of your hands on your thighs. Release tension around your temples and the corners of your eyes, nose, and mouth.
Practice—
- Imagine yourself as a flowering plant. Invite your hips to relax toward the earth and your spine to rise upward as though it were a stem. Then, like leaves, invite your shoulders to gracefully release away from your neck.
- Breathe with ease for 7-to-10 breaths.
- On inhale: Imagine that your body and heart are absorbing the light of the sun.
- On exhale: Imagine that the sunlight penetrates more and more deeply into your core.
- Breathe gently and freely for another 7-to-10 breaths.
- On inhale: Imagine a glow within your heart is slowly extending outward like rays of your inner sun.
- On exhale: Relax and allow the rays to recede back into your heart center. Release any remaining tension around your chest, abdomen, throat, and back of the skull, as though clearing space for your inner light to shine more brightly.
- Sit quietly for several minutes. In this stillness, imagine you are a plant blossoming love and light. Imagine all of life is a garden filled with plants blossoming love and light.
Transition Back into Your Day—
- Place your palms together in front of your heart and gently bow your head. Pause here and invite a few smooth even breaths.
- If comfortable, imagine your innermost heart-center is a brilliant glow.
- When you are ready, open your eyes if you have had them closed and slowly look around the space where you are, imaging you are a flower in the midst of a garden.
- Then, slowly return to your day.
This verse appears in Mala of Love: 108 Luminous Poems, edited by Ravi Nathwani and Kate Vogt, page 56, published by New World Library. H E A R T H is posted each full and new moon. KateVogt©2026.
