October

October

Coming in the coming rain:
scents of dying leaves in pain.
But I connect to nature’s vein,
to be clear, and not insane.

I awake this autumn morning,
watching for the coming rain.
Feeling part of mother’s vein,
I detect no sense of mourning.

I’d expect a tree to cry,
blowing in the coming rain.
Weep for falling leaves' disdain,
watching bugs and flowers die.

But I detect no sense of blame,
feel no fear of winter’s bane,
sense no blame in nature’s vein,
no remorse or sense of shame.

Creatures chirp with joy, not mourning;
waiting for the coming rain,
loving life, ignoring pain:
only joy, this autumn morning!