Your drive to work is color filled;
a lovely ride, you said.
The trees are brightly painted, now;
all yellow, gold and red.

The landscape's sprayed with beauty.
There's a zillion shades of green.
Plus orange, mauve, maroon and lime
and all that's in between!

These roadway views inspire me.
Yet, last year there was none!
There was no Fall. No! None at all!
The leaves fell. It was done.

The world, I guess, still did revolve.
But I was forced to stop!
The band kept marching. Seasons changed!
But out, I had to drop!

My outward eyes were forced to shut
so inward, they could stare.
...was lots of sights I had to face--
but none of them "out there".

The flowers bloomed. The blossoms spread.
Then timely, all did wilt.
The snows arrived and nature slept
beneath its snowy quilt.

These stages happened, right on cue
as nature does insist.
But I was looking elsewhere
and each change I, therefore missed.

So, were the colors on the trees
this time, one year ago?
I can't remember any, hence
I have to answer: No!

Perhaps a rest; a short respite
was what the trees did need.
'Cuz look how they've exploded;
burst with color! Wow indeed!

The landscape is so luminous;
a brightly painted print!
I look--and how I'm struck with awe.
The brilliance makes me squint!

Now flaming! Like a firestorm;
this outdoor work of art!
How telling that these words I choose
so, too describes my heart.

A mass aglow, all filled with warmth.
No more an empty shell.
You've touched it and it's come alive
(and seems to still work well).

And lo! this inner radiance
improves my outward view.
The color in the trees...enrapts,
as does the sight of you.

But leaves soon lose their glory;
they let go and down they float.
So should we fear enjoying them
since brief's their time to gloat?

The majesty now present
is a sight designed to please
so let's enjoy it while it's here;
each smile it brings, let's seize!

For, all things die quite soon enough;
life travels fast. It's swift!
So when some beauty comes our way--
embrace! Enjoy the gift!

I, hence enjoy the foliage
and times...you're in my sight.
Perhaps they both are fleeting gifts.
But both bring such delight.

I surely want to savor them.
This joy, it strokes my core.
Perhaps the thought that each may flee
makes them e'en precious, more.

Dave Varg