Autumn Poem by Ray Lucero

Autumn



Let us go and gather the grapes of the vineyard
For the wine press, and keep the wine in old
Vases, as the spirit keeps knowledge of the
Ages in eternal vessels.

Let us return to our dwelling, for the wind has
Caused the yellow leaves to fall and shroud the
Withering flowers that whisper elegy to Summer.

Come home, my eternal sweetheart, for the birds
Have made pilgrimage to warmth and left the chilled
Prairies suffering pangs of solitude. The jasmine
And myrtle have no more tears.

Let retreat, for the tired brook has
Ceased its song; and the bubble-some springs
Are drained of their copious weeping; and
The cautious old hills have stored away
Their colourful garments.

Come my beloved; Nature is justly weary
And is bidding her enthusiasm farewell
With quiet and contented melody.

Kahlil Gibran

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