Autumn begets Winter
The leaves of Summer are rotting fast
The die of Spring is already cast
Insects feast on the year’s shed skins
And the banquet of the birds begins.
Leaves shed their camouflage.
Nature’s strip-tease, writ large:
They sink back into the earth
To prepare for next year’s rebirth.
Would humans feel such elation
To be in continuous creation?
We too will join in this ritual dance
When we the earth ourselves enhance
When we take our leaves
We will become them.
Leave a Reply