An Autumn Hymn

Although the tender light is fading fast; And summer's hallowed flowers are dying; Although the precious lark is descending; And her sweetest songs are now in the past; I sense subtle shades & colours of art. I will gather in Time's golden harvest; And circumspectly translate the secrets; The eternal alphabets of the heart; In the rusted, brownish autumn of life. Quelled is the once furious, youthful rage; Scent of burnt leaves; smoky regions of age; Now crowd my fragile, dislocated mind. I'll seek to craft a deeper consciousness. For this is a season of stoic remembrance Despite modernity's rank decadence. I want to trace Nature's hidden circles; Til I hear winter's frozen warnings; When the life force & the senses are dimmed; When Love's carousel turns with solemn hymns; 'Til the unknown, darker realms come calling.