To the mountains Blue - II

We headed to the dainty dales

Of the distant mountains Blue,

To tiny towns, their gardens grand

To catch late Autumn’s hue

 

But when we reached, all that we had

Were a lazy summer’s green

Despite the cold, Autumn’s blush

Was not yet to be seen

 

We searched for colours everywhere

Every hamlet, every vale

But perhaps, we were too early for

Late Autumn’s blazing tale

 

And so we turned back, dejected

Our sojourn all a waste

Leaving Nature to her patterns own,

Neither slow nor haste

 

Entrenched in city life, days passed

Until a few days on,

I stopped upon a lonely track

On a morose, misty morn

 

There - right in the heart of bricks and walls

In the early morning light

Endless stood the maples, oaks

In scarlet crimson bright

 

 The avenue glowed brighter still

As the sun rose on the day

Wher’ver you turned, colours splashed

Each tree upon the way

 

And everyday, from that day on

I would come back to the trees

To soak in late the autumn’s warmth

Till blew the winter breeze

 

One by one, the carmine leaves

Paled and sailed away

Until there was black emptiness

At the very end of May

 

I smiled and wondered - strange it was

That we’d travelled to the Blues,

Yet here it was, behind my home

I found Autumn and her muse                                                                                                                                                                               

But sang a Fohn wind from the hills

Why this mortal doubt at all?

Perhaps it was your willingness

That you heard these trees, their call

 

And all that started with your quest

To the far-off hills in cold,

When Winter unlocked all your trails

To find the leaves of gold

  

So keep your faith in the winds that blow

No effort is a waste

And let Nature weave her patterns own,

Neither slow nor haste…