Autumn is the time to plunder all the things from hereunder
fruit and vegetables are picked and plowed to fill our baskets like the clouds
we plan for what soon will be
wind and snow upon the trees
but now is not the time to dwell
for now it’s time to sit a spell
I look at leaves upon the trees and see the ages pass
they fall like tears from my face as old I get up in years
Fall is a transition period moving things from here to there
looking forward and looking back to see what is for real
wind picks up the leaves on puffs and blows them round the yard
I sit upon the ground and become engulfed
the reds and oranges
yellows and browns swirl around my head
earth and death are featured here but life is not unspent
I feel the nuts, seeds of life, that have fallen from the trees
and one day I know, that trees they too will be
as days grow short we enter in the closest point to the sun
temperature drops, days grow darker and planning has begun
the time has been when you were alone and now you need some love
to hold you through the winter
so search each day for that sweet love that may be true forever
animals grow tired, and plan for sleep
they fatten or pack away lots to eat
like the grasshopper who plays all summer long
granting the world his beautiful song
some of us are not like ants
we humans need to gather our plants
the next thing we know we’re another year older
growing and changing
never stopping the forward progression
no suspended animation
ready or not we have to move forward
time is not the enemy it is not even real
it is a concept that we have created
we accept it as a reality
as the earth goes round the sun each year there is a time when autumn begins
though some have had a hard summer round here with little or no rain
their crops are all dry and wither out there with no hope of food left to plunder
time now grows short with age it comes
the end of life weighs upon us with the years
but night shall not fall with the final beat of drums
the final moment echoes in both ears
one day soon I know the leaves will fall
streaming from trees as tears from my face
and sad it may be there is nothing to stop what is to befall
each man and woman will encounter death’s cold embrace
time flows like a stream sweeping our lives along as leaves in water
autumn is like elder years
a tall man stands when young like spring moving into summer
but over time the he bends like summer moving into autumn
as fall marches forward the world ages around us
leaves turn and die falling from their once life giving trees
the grass stops growing and fades
holidays are celebrated both fun and scary
as ghouls and goblins spring from the ground
hunted by zombies and vampires
before the full moon a werewolf howls
the sun dawns over the horizon to all saints
pushing on deeper into the dark yet moving closer all the time
we head to the day when the fat birds run
the pilgrims were said to have started this day
families gather to remember elders with children
and after we move to prepare for the next big day
stores are full, decorated to the hilt
money is spent whether had or not
green trees are placed in prominent places
covered with colorful balls of glass
lights of either white or color
wrapped boxes scattered around the base
but that is closer to the end of autumn
holidays remind us of those we have lost
past the golden times of their lives and gone from us
we think of those with bleeding hearts
tears and mostly loss
as leaves cover the ground animals and kids play
completely unaware of the expanding universe
but one day all of creation too will reach its equinox
and autumn will fall over all of space
all the planets and stars will stop the forward motion
then will begin the long long journey back to whence they once began
like all of creation what gets to the end will be nothing like what began
I think of the things I learned while spending autumn days in school
of Greek and Roman mythology of how the seasons came
there was a goddess in Mediterranean lore of harvest who bore the charge
of life and death both seasons and of men
she had a daughter Persephone who was virgin pure as snow
the evil god of the underworld came and stole her away
he used his wits to find a way to keep her close to him
he promised his brother he would give her back if nothing she had eaten
but she had done, just that, some say, so he made a different deal
her mother could have her half the time and generous thought he be
so every year when her daughter descends the goddess grows sad
the trees and plants all wither away until the time is nigh
and then the reunited in spring and all is once again alive
I learned in school that this was how the ancients explained these times
for it was not within their grasp to see the vision true
school is what we all went through and ages it does pass
when near the end of high we think that autumn has began
but for those who seek more truth, it is still summer true
we now approach the one year mark of calendars all so old
of stories and legends of the end of the age something to behold
some prepare like Fall is here by stocking up on things
thinking that if things go south that they will have the rings
a hype some say nothing will come
but autumn we are in
if Mayan and Hopi legends are true we are so near the end
but will it be that we will fall like leaves into the bin
will we be raked across the Earth in piles like leaves on grass
or will it be like the smooth unheard twenty-first century pass
I know that death stalks us all, especially this time of year
but who will know how flows will go in this river of life unclear
all these thoughts of what will be are somewhat all remiss
of what can be when autumn is past that somehow we dismiss
if life is truly like a stream and we are leaves a float
then one day soon we will become much more than just a note
we will become the basis of new life, a new growth
perhaps not what we would like but something more verbose
so let’s not look at good or bad, I know it’s hard to do
but all my thoughts written here are absolutely true
as autumn leaves, fall from trees
flowing simply on their way gliding on the breeze
like tears that caress my face when death comes knocking too

 

One Response

  1. That’s a crckrecjaak answer to an interesting question

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