Autumn Poems

Autumn Wonders

Why are dead leaves so lovely?

Why is the sky so blue?

Why does the starlight reach into our night

And whisper that hope is true?

Our world is infused with blessing

That my logic cannot explain

And it whispers “rejoice” in a still, small, voice

Beyond the clamor of pain.

So I’ll dance as the leaves are dying,

I’ll look up at the bright blue sky

I’ll let starlight into my heart’s dark night

And trust that hope does not lie.

For love makes the dead leaves lovely

And soon buds will burst forth new

Love colors the sky and makes the stars cry,

“In the night, hope still is true.”

Flames unfurling in the cold

Paint the landscape red and gold.

Drained of green, yet vibrant still,

Waiting for the winter’s chill.

The wind picks up; they tumble down

And in falling gild the ground.

Thus they whisper without breath,

“Beauty blossoms out of death”

Years spent in New England and the Upper Midwest have taught me to love autumn. The leaves are so beautiful, and yet they only change color because they’re in the process of dying. Here are two poems I wrote this year meditating on this paradox. Looking at the poems, I see the beaten-down paths depression has left on my soul, but in my better moments I know that this death, too, is giving way to beauty.