Autumn

One of January's Mirth; 2009.

Autumn fades. My body laying in a bed of dried leaves. Steel blue hues staring blankly up, up through the vast land of dead, dying and broken trees: All bare of leaf, outstretched limbs swaying in the cold breeze... reaching toward a bruised, star filled sky; as if to pull it down.

Moon, who's silvered rays dance with shadows, a silent masquerade of onyx and light; a forever choreographed sequence of concealing embraces and luminous caresses.

The communing harmony of the gray wolf's cries fill the night; her pelt warm with life. Soft. Ageless, yet as old as Mother Earth. Fur linked to the dried, patient grasses; fangs and claws as the ever solid stones. Body, mind and soul as the endless, flowing rivers. Never truly dying. But running ever on.

Autumn; betwixt the warm spring of life and the cold, unforgiving winter of expiration. Betwixt death and rebirth. A pattern so intricate, a path untouched. Of becoming and ceasing to be; a pause between existence and passing on to being again.

Autumn; cool and crisp. Fading colors screaming to be given one last frosted kiss. Winds churn the gears of time, thrusting all into a viscious cycle of life.

Autumn. A collection of unheard stories.