Autumn, like an Indian classical dancer, dressed up
Arrives with soft rhymes and quickening steps
She comes aglow, aglow with a rare beauty
Dancing to the bracelet's tinkling song
Her floating robe falls in deep folds around her feet
As she mesmerizes all with moves full of grace
Viewing the flaming colours in assorted display
We are apt to wonder if Nature carefully saved up
All that is best for the closing grand finale
Autumn tints look enchanting all through the land
With pervading green, offset by crimson, citrus yellow
Flaming red, lustrous gold and a faded russet
The air stays crisp and sweet in the ripening fields
While stray clouds ramble in flawless turquoise sky

When autumn is thus all agog like a frenzied dervish
It gives us morbid pictures of death and decay
The trees wrestle to free themselves of their worn cloaks
Causing a cascade of withering autumn leaves
Now they fall scattered in endless stream and lie in piles
Like charred carcasses after a fierce forest fire
The rustle of dry leaves blown by the wind
Falls in our ears with the gabble of migrating birds
Pale sunshine sifts through leafless trees of maple and oak
All those leaves once stayed regal in stations high
But now tossed out like worthless chaff
They come nose diving and fall several meters below
Spreading a hazel curtain over the moist earthen crust
When trampled mercilessly by careless feet
They silently mourn their thankless fate

Graying that comes at the end of each autumnal fall
Reminds us of the pall of gloom that awaits
It is disturbing like the parting song of birds
As they fly southward before the fall of winter

Neons red in rain drops
bleeding down the window
a prayer for the ones
deserving more than they got.
Knew one,
a little buttercup,
parchment pale skin
and the bluest eyes
never caught a break
like a pigeon
with a low hanging
wing
on the ground it trails
left to peck in the gutters
with all the others
but the others
can always fly away.

in the puddle beneath the pear tree
I watched the galaxy weave its web
and my fingers could tug it's strings,
like a pianist at the keys,
tugging at infinite light and sound
pulling me closer to this eternal truth.
guiding me through the endless paths
and showing me the difference

between those
and rabbit holes,
folding into folds,
unfolding into new,

you whispered in the night, "i'm here".
but I couldn't find you in the sunrise
or in the field I cleared for you.