It scents ripe chestnuts
And rhymes in craving’s embrace.
Dreams are cheerful through sighs,
Mysteriously painting their place in the fall.
From the north is coming down
A sprightly breeze singing in a minor.
The blue sky, for a second,
Wrapped my desire in a way,
Carving peacefulness on its wing,
Casting shelter for quietness.
The angels are dancing waltz
Downwind from orient.
It scents ripe grapes from vineyard
And the prayers kept in hearts,
And colours that return to life
In an ancient corner of this blissful Autumn.
Through all of these, you are speaking to me, Demiurge,
And yours remains my muttered mystery.
It’s peace, it’s bright,
It’s warm and benediction.
And even if the clouds are gathering over
I know there will be a tomorrow
Full of light rain of divine grace.
On the Autumn frame, it joys
The utterances of velvet.
It scents sacred love
And written word on psalms.
It fragrances Fall which is blessing
The daydreaming alongside chestnuts trees.
© Simona Prilogan