The leaves are falling, falling as from far,
as though above were withering farthest gardens;
they fall with a denying attitude.

And night by night, down into solitude,
the heavy earth falls far from every star.

We are all falling. This hand’s falling too —
all have this falling-sickness none withstands.

And yet there’s One whose gently-holding hands
this universal falling can’t fall through.

~Rainer Maria Rilke



Searching Like October

October walked in calmly
Searching for its own
Leaves had barely fallen
Hidden veins – throbbing
Underneath the slight breeze

When winds blew harder
Trees turned white
Calling upward, shaking in
Questionable terror

The mistral uproots
Exposes shallows
Crashes mighty hardwoods
Blocking access—
The squall of you

Maybe even now
You will walk
In that leaf-studded trail
And surprise me –
Rays shining through leaves.

Yet when the tornadic arrives
They all search
For their own
Like October

A leaf clings
Tethered to branch
Fighting against gales of life,
Careless winds,
Dying in gutter,
Aimless wandering,
Hopeless meandering

Seeking belonging
Seeking safety

Clutching truth
Roots grounded
Held in powerful hands

©Prasanta   10/11/16