trying to lose myself in the perfect balance
that sets in every year at this time,
when the sun seems to lose its heat
and the winds begin to grow.
And as one rises and the other falls
there is a point at which all things are equal.
A point when the winter winds are still children
and the heat waves from earlier days
have calmed to rays of gentle warmth.
As certain as the cold and darkness that approach,
so is this balance,
this utopia
that comes first,
like the instant before death
when the human heart is calmed
by an enlightening glimpse of Heaven.
In the seasons, this glimpse,
this harmony,
is
autumn.
It is a time of pumpkins and leaves,
browns, reds, oranges,
and the gold that Nature sprinkles over the land.
It is a time that means back to school
and a time that brings to mind friends from yesterday.
The season makes me wish for more of the precious autumns
that have been lost forever.
This autumn is no different,
for today I've returned to a familiar place,
trying to feel the same as I did years ago
when I stepped here for the first time.
But I can't.
As I walk across this place
where the leaves pad my steps,
I watch others carrying on,
dreaming their dreams,
smiling, loving,
and enjoying the season.
I stop.
Even though I am home on a quiet autumn day
with a baby winter wind blowing
and the colored leaves bathing in golden rays,
it's not the same.
I weep because the autumns here are no longer mine.