An Ekphrasis of Fall - after Keats' "To Autumn"
Sing, holy Muse, of yellow leaves on high
For summer’s green has given way to fall
And autumn’s urgent beauty calls the eye.
Organic golden wonder magics all
When flowers fade and, look! the fading flower.
The dying time of year is crowned with fruit
As fields now don their festal garb and groves
Enchant to harvest sweet the summer sour.
When life retreats and sap descends to root,
Heaven fills the void and colors shoot
The wooded hills in seraph-shaded droves.
The world appears each fall for the first time
Awake in art that vaults above my head,
A yearly telling of the tale divine,
A resurrection drama by the dead,
A fore-crown of an ever-Spring to come
With bluebirds as the gems amidst the gold.
Deciduous cathedrals rise in fall,
Adorned by unseen artists without sum,
A stained glass sea the pillared trees uphold,
Shards falling, falling down to make the mold:
No richer carpet floors fair elven hall.
I walk with autumn in the morning chill;
I bliss in blustery, a lively breeze
Is rustling soul and stem with amber thrill.
Alive but bloodless, liquid song of leaves
In symphony, a billion tongues in choir,
Bedecked in countless colors, greet the dawn.
Amidst the gloaming stars and singing spheres,
.As sunrise sets on earth, autumnal fire
With myriad of molten hues upon
Land lights lava leaves, flaming branches wan.
What wonderfall, what feast for eyes and ears!
The feeling of the season slips the line
Of sweetest longing whetted, waited long.
When time itself tastes old and saturnine,
The sunset of the year leaves heart in song,
As burning bush replaces every tree,
Arboreal aurora fae and fair.
What words can capture woods begrudging green,
Or groves transposed to ombre auburn key,
Volcanic ember leaves with glory glare,
That tincture of thanksgiving in the air?
Perhaps Aspen agéd laugh crisp Maple dream.