Autumn: A Prose-Poem Thingy

This spring, inspired by The Grim Writer's spring meditative sketch thing (I like the term prose-poem, myself) before I knew she was going to do one for each season, I wrote a quick Autumn meditative sketch/prose-poem. (I was on the way back to school from spring break at the time, actually...I remember sitting in the airport writing it, distinctly.) 

And so, I thought I'd post it, just for funzies...because obviously you need two posts of original Samantha writing in one week. Obviously. Grim posted hers in September, but in any case, I wrote up this post in August, far before she posted hers, so that I know that I haven't been influenced by her at all, because I didn't know when she was going to post hers. XD Mine is shorter than some of hers have been...but I like it.

(Also, rereading mine after having read hers, I'm reminded that my view of Autumn is very influenced by the weather during September/October/November in my corner of the PNW, specifically, which is a fair bit different than everywhere else. Hehe.)

Without further ado...

Autumn

My beauty comes not in the waves of wheat, for those belong to my sister, summer. The labor is hers; the fruits are hers. It may grieve men that I must put her to sleep, but so the Master has decreed it. And she will come again, ripening the fruit, rejoicing the hearts of men.

With my cool breath, men shiver, knowing that soon, I will give the world to the care of another sister, to cover in white and ice. 

They know that my hands, withering the leaves, cooling the air, bringing rains to ease the cracked ground, exhausted from its summer labors, lay into slumber all they touch. I remind them of their own long sleep.

To some, this recollection brings fear, the unknown and terrifying presaged in the golden leaves that herald my presence. They do not wish to sleep, even in this life, and pinch themselves awake. These are the same who wish to invade Eden and seize the Tree of Life. More fools they, for eternal summer in this world would not be to their liking. My sister lets no one rest. 

But others see my loveliest days, when the sun breaks through the clouds, and the leaves glisten from my gentle rains (for I lull to sleep, I force nothing to slumber, but only sing to all the song of night, and rock them in my rustling rain-wet bosom), and they exult in the beauty they see.

Those wise know that I bring a time of rest from the labors demanded by my sister. They savor the time I give them to put their lives to sleep for the year, covering their gardens in a carpet of leaves and straw, taking time to breathe and look up for the first time since the summer. My time of slowing brings to mind the long rest they are called to. 

And they do not fear, for the Master has passed through my lullaby arms to bring to flower the new Tree of Life. And those who see my beauty know that when they pass through those self-same arms, they will find themselves at rest in His. Then, he will offer them the true fruits of that new Tree. 

And so they see my beauty and rejoice. 

So...that's that! How do you feel about Autumn being solidly here, if not almost over in some places? Which is your favorite season?