October breaks upon us in a crispness of light and air,
A restlessness of wind that conjures the magic
Turning the leaves, and as their green coats of life fade
Each poplar, each oak, each birch and maple
Stands in crimson and gold, amber and purple,
Glittering like the memories of spring and summer,
The joys of brilliant days passing with the passing year.
It is that time of year again
When this patchwork quilt of colorful moments
In which we picked and enjoyed the fruits of life
Wears thinner and thinner, then disappears
Like breath that hangs for an instant in the crystal air
Before becoming nothing in our eyes,
Leaving us to think of how the world leaves us behind
In these leaf strewn woods of time,
Between the fading gold of life
And the brilliance of the sky.
I walk in the dim shadows of that forest's lost glory now,
Watching those brilliant memories
Falling away, leaf by splendored leaf,
Wondering what hold me to it,
Where the mind and body, lost in a moment's quickness,
Continue on with it
Into the eternity of generations and seasons and stars.
Is this the hand that holds mine,
The hand of that spirit, more beautiful than light,
And yet more fragile, paper thin,
Passing as a rainstorm through the autumn hills,
As an hour of daylight, a drop of water
Lost in the silver moments of the running stream?
Even as we reach out to grasp it,
The light wanes into long shadows across the stubble fields,
The last leaves slip away on the wind, and are gone,
And we hear the last goose flying under the cold, white moon.
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Author Notes
Autumn for me, is my favorite time of year. There is something about the crisp, refreshing air, the colors of the leaves, the restlessness of the wind, and the fading light, that speaks of the poignancy, the ephemeral nature, of the moments of the year, the transitory, fragile nature of life, and the passing of time. All these elements I tried to weave together into this Ode to Autumn. The style and musical elements were inspired by Samuel Coleridge's beautiful romantic poem, Frost At Midnight. The image at the end, of the cold, white moon, speaks of the onset of winter, and the coming snows, that follow fall. So there is a sense of the fluid passing of time here, of leaving behind the precious moment of a year to memory, and looking forward to what life brings next. estory
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