Autumn Whispers

The morning air whispers strongly of Autumn in my lungs.

The Great impending Fall of all we no longer need.

The return of moisture for the gift of breathing deeply,

to smell the aromas of culminating soil and seeds,

preparing for a grand sleep.

The scents of raindrops caressing petals of plants

who surrender their oils to the winds

bring the news that a countdown begins.

They give their last rally for light

and final hurrah in splendorous visage.

There is time to be still in the shift:

to be as trees who can still sing with their leaves.

They rejoice in changing colors, and revere relea­se,

for they know the art of regeneration needs

the brush of endings for the canvas of rebirth.

The greens brought sparks to our hearts

and a drink to the earth, helped us cope with the heat.

They will now slowly retreat.

Auburn will bring the memory of fire.

Yellow to honor the sun and our golden souls.

Orange and sienna say they shall shorten our days

so that we have a chance to glow.

For as the light of life dies down around us,

we, ourselves, recall how to let go.

The Dark Night shall not claim us,

but reveal what is left

after we walked through the fires of summer

to reach a gentle end.

And when that end speaks soft and wise

to free our eyes

to see all the treasures we gathered in our chests,

the soft light in the mighty clouds says:

Remember me.

Pause and look so you won’t forget

when I take my rest and set for a long breath.

Do not hold it in when the cold comes,

for even in the little death,

we breathe for love.

Copyright © 2021, S. Naify

Art: Autumn Whispers by Claudya Schmidt

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