Autumn

Pet by petal, the chrysanthemums shrivel.
Drop by drop, the streams slow down to a trickle.
The red leaves fall, the still pond ripples.
Here I sit, just me and my shadow.
Dreamy, 
Nostalgic, 
Quixotic.

The birds are flying south, their calls a distant echo.
Wine and food I have prepared, but alone I sit at the table. 
The floor is cold, silence reigns the house.
And so I remain, quiet as a mouse.
Pensive,
Yearning,
Hopeful.

Fall and Autumn

Have I ever told you how much I love autumn… yes, yes, I probably have, every single bloody year. I can’t help myself; I am drawn to the fall colors like a moth to light. It is beautiful, especially early in the morning or late in the afternoon as the sunlight sashay between the trees, cascading upon fallen leaves like light through stain glass windows.

There is zest, no overbearing heat, dreary humidity or biting cold. Everything is just right, balanced. The leaves, oh they are great; how I love to watch them fall, dawdling, lazily swishing about. I know where it is heading, I think they do too, but they are in no hurry, just floating as if exploring, prolonging the journey, enjoying every last moment. Sometimes I wish I live a life of a leaf; blossoming upon the highest branches, aspiring to greater heights, ever urging the tree towards light and better growth, contributing through photosynthesis. Then when my time has come, I become a brilliant red and orange, admired by many before I began my journey back to the earth where I eventually become another source of nutrient.

I think a leaf knows what it means to be have a meaningful life. A life that may seem idled to an observer. A life that may seem stationary, same view each day perhaps, maybe a little bit taller than the month before, but ultimately stable. Yet what great service it provides for the tree which it sits upon, and the ecosystem about it.