The flight was long,
longer than a falling maple leaf.
Autumn's bounty captured exquisitely.
Trees signalling the inevitable change,
turning colours of wild camp fires
before they shed and later become lost under winter's blanket.
Striking beauty, once blazed, extinguished.
Bright yellow, orange, red, burgundy and some green -
an exultant vision brought by nature -
now left to decay.
A dead repose.
Set for future new beginnings.
This is life's Mantra.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem