Ephemeral Hues of Quiet Dreams, Colorful Leaves and Cold Stars
An ode to Autumn's Reverence
Quiet, Weeping Weather
The maple tree loses a leaf.
It simply drifts down
onto the wet grass.
.
The play of colors is at its peak,
The battle to be seen.
Red, yellow, brown, black,
Dark green, persistent.
.
If a storm comes,
The finery is torn away.
Humans begin to adorn again.
Without the play of colors, no life.
.
The rainbow unchanged,
The sun’s magical refraction,
Water's constant erosion,
Softens the gray mind.
.
Evenings grow longer,
The hours do not diminish.
Only the light refuses to subdue
The Earth’s rotating orbit.
.
Night is lit up with stars,
Cold and clear.
The northern lights strike the corona,
Green, red, purple in flickering gleam.
.
Now the sky is veiled,
Ephemeral in crackling flashes.
Most do not see it,
Dreaming, far from the world.
.
A cult of colors,
Daring to show themselves.
A time of gratitude tunes
Humankind to quiet reverence.
About the Creator
Henrik Hageland
A poet, a writer of feelings and hope. A Dane and inhibitant of the Earth thinking about what is to come.
A good story told or invented. Human all the way through.
Want to know more? Visit Substack , my YouTube Channel or TikTok.
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Comments (1)
Gosh this was so mesmerisingly beautiful! Loved your poem!