Decay disguised as beauty
crept under the facade
of the autumnal equinox
it’s more common, i find
that with growth comes death,
a changing color
on the wall of trees,
the irredeemably lush yellows
and earthen reds
overnight a bright green
in the morning is now
a bronzen orange.
For a few choice weeks
these trees light the streets
and fool me into thinking it will last.
They are for me,
if i so choose to see,
a breakthrough inbetween sight
of the timeless inner light
a shining from beyond the veil,
which then falls away
so that the natural dark
can take its turn.
This poem goes right to something that we all feel.
very fine.
"
"night goes down to day
Nothing gold can stay"
R Frost wrote that. But yours makes each of us a decider about whether we choose to see"a shining" which is very good.
I like yours and his both.
Mike, I really appreciate this... The images, all the colors, but also the spirit.