THE OUTING OF WISDOM

The thing
that autumn brings:
the soft unveiling
of deep wisdom
as leaves
and other outer forms,
seen from without,
get wizened,

and sounds
wane. . .
the wary whispers
come to reign
where did preside
loud summer shouts. . .

and short burst blaze
of this,
one of fall’s bright finest days,
has to its apex
so quick risen. . .

and, reluctant, out I strut,
the space and air
so through to cut,
with stretch,
with kicks and wiggles,
ballet bounds,

pushed into
hard-persuaded plods
upon these fragrant, pine-strewn grounds,
decked by the broad-spread
parent trees
that love and guard so safe
as they reach o’er
to bless my head
and my whole form,

as feet and hands
and limbs
from rounded joints
begin to swing,
to ground to earth
and find their proper, happy rhythm.

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