Autumn

The afternoon leans in closer,
pushes up softly against my senses,
pauses, then whispers “Autumn”.

I stand still with the rake in my hands,
sniffing the season’s subtle wafting perfumes
like a curious happy canine.

I didn’t need to be informed by now,
but I appreciate the gesture all the same —
yes, it is Autumn, Thank you, Thank you!

Everything is always eager to please,
to reveal itself, making sure that there will be
no mistaking what a miracle anything is —
the sky, a blue coat with white cloud buttons,
the leaves, a currency of crinkled crimson and gold.

Look — the Fall breeze is filling with colors
nobody has ever been able to name,
yet sudden tears might spring from our eyes
unbidden, merely contemplating the mystery
of a single rain drop waiting patiently
to pour down from the swirling sky.

Somehow we have been granted
a vision of this kaleidoscopic wonder
so that we can share its stupendous magic
with all of the rest of ourselves, those babies
of consciousness still wrapped in warm blankets,
quietly humming little poem sounds in their cribs.