There are not enough words to capture the beauty of this season, but this poem from Mary Oliver is a great place to start…
Song for Autumn
In the deep fall
don’t you imagine the leaves think how
comfortable it will be to touch
the earth instead of the
nothingness of air and the endless
freshets of wind? And don’t you think
the trees themselves, especially those with mossy,
warm caves, begin to think
of the birds that will come — six, a dozen — to sleep
inside their bodies? And don’t you hear
the goldenrod whispering goodbye,
the everlasting being crowned with the first
tuffets of snow? The pond
vanishes, and the white field over which
the fox runs so quickly brings out
its blue shadows. And the wind pumps its
bellows. And at evening especially,
the piled firewood shifts a little,
longing to be on its way.
More Autumn poems (including another by Mary Oliver) can be found here at Poet Seers.
Don’t you just love this time of year? Does it make the words swirl poetic in your mind like the golden leaves in the wind? Does your mind long to capture the images like my camera, to hold still this beautiful time of change?
