Autumn Blues...

Between the scorching heat,

Soothed by rains, and the dark bitter winter,

Lies the autumn hues.

Benches, grass, small paths in the mountain,

An epiphany glowing, with hues of autumn,

Brown, red, tangerine and yellow leaves,

Fallen from majestic and tall trees,

On pillows of winds,

Cover the naked earth, with a bright vista,

A carpet of myriad coloured pieces,

A sight of rapture,

The signature of autumn.

The slight bite of winter ahead,

The nip in the air, making one pull up the shawl,

When just before nature gets active,

To collect and store,

All animals alike, an ancient gene inherent,

For the species to survive,

For scarce can they thrive,

When days darken and snow layers the ground.

A twin mate of spring,

Where blossom is the sign,

Here fall comes, swirling leaves, barren trees,

Gently drifting down, a symphony timeless,

Intoxicated by a life lived well,

Even the majestic tree smiles at the last leaf,

Which tenaciously tries to keep hanging,

Knowing well, that the fall and splendour,

Of departure so colourful,

Shall hold the promise,

Of a blossom again, 

Some season collect their debt, by adversity,

While others fill in the richness of ecstasy,

An equal balance,

The tale of many seasons and million moons.

My path is covered with leaves of all hues,

I walk by, introspective and nostalgic,

Soaking in the beauty of autumn,

Yet pondering the passing of another year,

After the hibernation of winter.

Rejoice, dance and clap,

For each leaf that falls,

Not coz it leaves a tree barren,

But a wonder of nature, magical ,

Unfolds before us,

As each season has its inimitable sign,

So shall I say of autumn,

The falling leaves, the wondrous colours,

The heart of all souls rejoice,

At the masterstroke of the classic painting,

None to match the canvas,

The autumn blues, with rapturous hues,

Makes one drunk and intoxicated,

From the cup of life,

Alas to wake up again after the long sleep,

To walk the path again, small buds,

Nature in all its raw beauty,

Wilderness a reflection, to the inner eye,

Of the paradise and the infinite song of life.