Flocks of geese traverse misty, graying skies,
and somewhere a bell tolls. The hour is late.
Burnt sienna leaves lay scattered. Hope dies,
then resurrects transformed and fears abate.
Winds rise up to stir spirits quieted
by nature’s acquiescence to season’s
chill. Thoughts turn to love lost, unrequited,
to mystery, myriad of reasons
life exacts heavy price of weighted gold
from some, leaves others enriched and unscathed.
Human nature: to want to have and hold.
But surrender of all ‘tis to be bathed
in higher love and find serenity,
to seek renewal, rest in purity.