Beneath the azure vault of skies, a scene unfolds,
Where autumn dresses up in gold and crimson robes.
I gaze through panes that frame the tranquil world outside,
Where yellow grass in gentle breezes dare to glide.
The leaves, like dancers in the sun’s declining light,
Twirl gracefully—a spectacle of sheer delight.
Their colors vivid, fire-bright and undeniably bold,
A tapestry of orange, red, and sunlit gold.
Each leaf a note in nature’s grand, melodious hymn,
Singing of the summer’s end, the autumn’s whim.
They whirl and pirouette upon the stage of earth,
Celebrating life, and death, and rebirth.
Beyond my window, the trees whisper tales of yore,
Of seasons past, and all that will come once more.
The air, still warm with summer’s lingering kiss,
Foretells the winter’s chill that soon will not miss.
And here I sit, behind this clear, restricting wall,
Yearning to feel the autumn’s cool, inviting call.
To walk among the leaves, let go of all my fears,
To dance with them, and leave behind the forming tears.
Yet, I am bound within these walls of glass and wood,
A spectator to the freedom of the neighborhood.
But oh, to be a leaf upon that vibrant sea,
To float upon the wind, utterly unchained and free!
The scene paints lessons of the cycles all must heed,
Life’s constant flow, where every end meets a new deed.
From green to gold, then bare against the winter sky,
Each leaf a story, whispering softly, ‘do not shy.’
For in the quiet decline of vibrant leaf and grass,
Lies the promise of renewal, a perennial pass.
Winter will fade, and spring will soon bestow,
New life, new colors, a fresh, verdant show.
I reach to touch the glass, cool beneath my fingers,
Where the image of untamed beauty still lingers.
A silent prayer to join that world so wild and free,
To roam the earth, as carefree as a leaf from tree.
As I withdraw, the sun dips low, its journey done,
The sky a canvas of hues, signaling the evening’s begun.
And though I’m here, confined, my spirit starts to soar,
Knowing each season’s passage brings joys to explore.
So through the window, I’ll watch, and I’ll dream,
Of all the autumns past, and those yet to gleam.
For though I’m bound today, tomorrow holds the key,
To step out, to breathe deep, to join the dance, be free.
