how beautiful it is

now the leaves have fallen.

see the disgrace of men who weep

but women cry no more.

in the hollow hills, we see the light

we see the depth of our self.

into internal oblivion -

we seek.

how beautiful it is

now the trees are clinging

onto the memory of the green they once held.

we watch this lifetime cycle,

but every time it seems new again.

when will we stretch our arms

and reach

for the threshold of this

existence and be?

how beautiful it is

now the air is crisper,

now that we can breathe again.

how beautiful it is to see through new eyes

this is mindfulness and here is our chance

to shed again

to sink into the core.

i know of a place we can go.