The morning air whispers strongly of Autumn in my lungs.
The Great impending Fall of all we no longer need.
The return of moisture for the gift of breathing deeply,
to smell the aromas of culminating soil and seeds,
preparing for a grand sleep.
The scents of raindrops caressing petals of plants
who surrender their oils to the winds
bring the news that a countdown begins.
They give their last rally for light
and final hurrah in splendorous visage.
There is time to be still in the shift:
to be as trees who can still sing with their leaves.
They rejoice in changing colors, and revere release,
for they know the art of regeneration needs
the brush of endings for the canvas of rebirth.
The greens brought sparks to our hearts
and a drink to the earth, helped us cope with the heat.
They will now slowly retreat.
Auburn will bring the memory of fire.
Yellow to honor the sun and our golden souls.
Orange and sienna say they shall shorten our days
so that we have a chance to glow.
For as the light of life dies down around us,
we, ourselves, recall how to let go.
The Dark Night shall not claim us,
but reveal what is left
after we walked through the fires of summer
to reach a gentle end.
And when that end speaks soft and wise
to free our eyes
to see all the treasures we gathered in our chests,
the soft light in the mighty clouds says:
Remember me.
Pause and look so you won’t forget
when I take my rest and set for a long breath.
Do not hold it in when the cold comes,
for even in the little death,
we breathe for love.
Copyright © 2021, S. Naify
Creature Speak - The Language of Creaturehood 