Last Autumn--Revised

The river is at autumnal peace The spring runoff months long past. The sun has mellowed, shrinking shadows. Birds that once graced this glade Have assayed the air and arched the horizon. There is a gentleness in grass and tree— A gentleness that reminds me of me. My life’s season too is settling up, Signed by silent, sober resignation. What I once was, I am no more My river has slowed to a feeble flow. Legs that once fit me to jump and leap Now struggle my balance to keep. I see in nature’s changing trappings Reflections of what is afoot for this form. All of God's living things signal a cycle Of orderly, ordained necrosis and renewal. The river and sun and grass and tree Are of the nature that is a part of me. Sleep-needful eyes too heavy one day Will tearlessly close in all being’s way. I do not abhor the closing of the door. My angel Mother whispered "there is more."