Tis Fall the Best Of Seasons. Mild sunny days Long cool nights In Vee formation Geese in flight. South they fly To warmer climes A prelude to Winters' icy charms. The leaves from green To yellow turn.then Gold and red,then Drift to ground There form a bed Where squirrels bound From spot to spot Burying nuts,later To be found. The Salmon run is past They've spawned and died In giving life. On each morn The Frost does lay A crystal blanket Where chipmunks play. The crops are in The corn piled high The fields in fallow Now do lie, to sleep The Winter through. The Harvest Moon Shines yellow bright To bathe the Pumpkins In golden light. The air is still And clear as glass An odd cloud cross The Moon does pass. Out on the Lake The Loons give cry As if to Summer They say good-bye. Tis Fall.
Thank you for this lovely poem. In the room where I am right now,I can look out the window and see the trees turning the golds and reds. It's so pretty right now.
--------------------
Hopes are towers in the skies Dreams are wings taking flight
The Boundaries which divide Life from Death are at best Shadowy and vague. Who shall say where one ends and the other begins
I can only go into my mind's eye to experience an Autumn like this. Thank you for putting it into such a wonderful prose.
Flora
--------------------
"Nature always wears the colors of the spirit." -
Ralph Waldo Emerson
Forget not that the earth delights to feel your bare feet and the winds long to play with your hair.
K. Gibran
In every walk with nature one receives far more than he seeks.
John Muir
"Climb the mountains and get their good tidings. Nature's peace will flow into you as sunshine flows into trees. The winds will blow their own freshness into you, and the storms their energy, while cares will drop off like autumn leaves."
Indeed fall is my prefered season after winter of course. The air is crisp and fresh. Your poem cannot describe it better for it is the loveliest season.
Thank you. LOA
--------------------
"Few men are brave:many become so through training and discipline." Flavius Vegetius Renatus
"I think a hero is an ordinary individual who finds strenght to persevere and endure in spite of overwhelming obstacles." Christopher Reeve
Here is another poem about autumn, a little more somber and contemplative, that I came across today. I'll add it here, since it fits with your meditation, Dave:
To a Leaf Falling in Winter
by W. S. Merwin
At sundown when a day's words have gathered at the feet of the trees lining up in silence to enter the long corridors of the roots into which they pass one by one thinking that they remember the place as they feel themselves climbing away from their only sound while they are being forgotten by their bright circumstances they rise through all of the rings listening again afterward as they listened once and they come to where the leaves used to live during their lives but have gone now and they too take the next step beyond the reach of meaning