AUTUMN DANCERS

The leaves outside my morning window
in pairs, they swiftly swing,
dancing to the melodies of time.

I watch them twirl and sway,
chosen partners with the breeze'
Their dance is a waltz of freedom.

Swirling and lifting, flying to Heaven.
I watch in stillness lest I disturb
the silent harmonies of the wind.

Only an invisible spectator peering
from my lofty theatre seat and listening,
I strain to hear the rhythms that they follow.

These private melodies of the wind
will pipe their timeless tunes for these
dancers caught in autumn's tight embrace.

The circle of their lush green lives
completes itself, now draped in all
the vibrant rainbows of their death.

This is their one and only waltz,
the last dance they will share,
for only in death can they dance.

Only in death do they fly.
Only in death are they free.
Only in death will they live.