Autumn (a poem)
Jo Acharya | October 25, 2021
There is beauty in the dying;
as green surrenders to yellow, red and brown,
the bold brightness of summer
giving way to a tapestry of hues, rich and warm.
Trees on their way to winter,
glorying in a last hurrah;
as flecks of gold fall from their branches,
floating towards their end
and their beginning.
There is beauty in the dying;
as strength surrenders to frailty
and freedom gives way to faith.
Trusting the weaver of the seasons
we lean in and embrace,
glorying in the fearful and the wonderful,
as flecks of gold adorn our damaged bodies
and shimmer in the autumn light.
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