Winds and Dew of Autumn

I called a council

of words this day

to see what 

they might say.

They gathered themselves

all about me and leaned

into the center with nothing

on their lips.  No sound

to cross their tongues.

But there was a feeling

there; a feeling of a 

woods full of trees.  A

feeling of a mountain

covered with shrubs.

Leaves all a' bursting 

vibrantly with the electric 

colors of Autumn.  

How loud their

silence bellowed out and

carved deep ruts of awe

in the centers of all

who saw; the great and

small, the rich and

poor, the brown, and 

tawny, the pink and black.

Each was torn open with

the wonder of their counsel;

a council of counsel of nothing

to hear, but the endlessly 

burning bushes of Fall.

What will you take from 

of their sound, this council

of words that has nothing

to say?  What will you notice

in the blazing of leaves;

what will shift in you

at the vibrant song of

NOTHING BUT FLAMES.

Stand on the edge of that

council and open yourself

to be ravished by the

amazement that blows in

silently

on the winds and dew

of Autumn.