Oct. 8, 2011
Now the pansies and chrysanthemums Paint the landscape of the changing year And in my autumn change upon me comes. How many springs have passed me as I walked Unknowing with my hurried feet of clay. I am tired now, the waning year returns With griefs and memories I once had locked Away in brighter seasons, happier days. Each season has its beauty and the fall Of coloured leaf against a burnished sky Evokes a longing in the troubled heart. Earth prepares for its hour of tranquil rest And the white days that seem to cover sins. I find no rest, he seeking soul moves on, There is a work to do and much remains Undone and all the efforts of the past Are prelude only to the epic climb Towards the truth-light that illumines me.
Poems Undated (1727)
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