Shh! Lo and behold! Sweet soul of September
Myriad riots of colors, bleed the summer’s ruthless recall
And a sum of bygone longings, sets the air astir
Rustling fur of fallen belongings, lasting whispers of fall…

A bunch of dozy Asters, loll, on the relics of Maple’s toils
Braving life, in throes of fire, earth slumbering in bleeding pall
In the mêlée of four seasons, it’s the fall that yields the spoils
Blessed balm on throbbing lesions, lasting whispers of fall…

And the sun does die down early, in the grave of equinox
Moon lingers on long, to croon a cradlesong, Oh! That haunting call
To nature’s naked enigmas; broken mirth of mating peacocks
“Beauty of death’s blessings and life’s stigmas! Lasting whispers of fall…”

Beyond the barren branches, and wasteland’s scorched soul
Flickers faith, in winter’s cold blood, and spent summer’s haul
On the rustling grave of yesterdays, sing todays’ requiems, to extol
“Till the farms, of tomorrows’ dreams, lasting whispers of fall…”

© 2016 Vikas Chandra