© 2016 by Joyce Mason
Fruits and leaves
fall from the trees
sometimes with a thud,
from the growing season:
transition from harvest to withering.
Within one quarter
we go from fully ripe
to shedding what is fulfilled
for the coma season
where we regenerate underground,
sprout new facets of ourselves
in the dark pseudo-death of winter,
resurrection invisible until
buds of new beginnings
break out of our earthen cell blocks in spring.
In-between times are sacred,
call for faith:
the trust game for team-building
where you fall backwards
into the arms of your friends
face your own fears on whether they’ll catch you.
The Circle of the Seasons
will catch you always.
The blaring beauty of autumn
over and over again
as predictable as dawn and dusk
the two in-between times
we meet every day.
Contemplate what you need to let go.
Let it fall gently.
There’s no reason to worry.
You’ll see colors again so vivid:
Ecstatic eye glare.
This Technicolor Life has unending sequels.
Photo Credit: Couple Tree and Falling Leaves © Khunaspix | Dreamstime.com
Want to see more autumn poems by The Radical Virgo? Enjoy these offerings from the past five years:
Mercury Retrograde Autumn (2015)
Equinox Poem: “Autumn Me” (2012)
Semi-Circle: Autumn Equinox (2011)
And a practice worth repeating: Autumn: Meditation on Wild Gratitude (2014)