Ode to the Beginning of Autumn

 

O gentle autumn, whispering breeze,
With golden light that floods the trees,
Thy breath, so soft, the air now cool,
Turns summer's blaze to evening's jewel.

The leaves blush red, then amber glow,
As if the earth in twilight's flow
Wears robes of fire and dusky gold,
A fleeting beauty, brave and bold.

O autumn, herald of the dusk,
Thy air is crisp, with scents of musk,
Of woodsmoke, pine, and ripened grain,
Thy touch brings life and loss, the same.

The fields are ripe with harvest’s yield,
The boughs bend low, the orchards healed,
Yet whispered winds foretell of rest,
As nature draws into her breast.

O sovereign of the quiet hours,
Thy hands weave magic in the bowers,
The world prepares for sleep’s embrace,
And finds new beauty in thy grace.

In every leaf that falls like flame,
In every shadow, soft and tame,
I see thy promise, calm and wise—
That endings give new birth to skies.

So let us dance, as nights grow long,
To autumn’s gentle, timeless song,
For in thy glow, we find our peace,
And in thy chill, our hearts’ release.