Shimmering fireburst colors, swirling yellow and orange
fall leaves fluster past windows, cupped in cold winter winds
glowing like gold from mountains, too soon they will turn to dust
brisk autumn rain the last rights, cleansing the earth for winter,
choked frozen stems break away, leaves fall from cold branches
half dead they blanket wet streets, the cycle of life repeats
I fell asleep nestled in down as part of a white world..
and woke up to water dripping from branches where snow had been.
it seems nature is as fickle as I, white is now grey
leading through to the shrine, stories stacked like dominoes
Spring sunlight seeps in, it's shadows repeat the pattern
a silent chant of color, an orange gateway to god.
{p.s: it struck.. it stunned me.. & so i finally decd'd to scribble it down here}
Labels: poem
Haze