Angels of Autumn

Images like postcards flying loose in the wind

play over and over in my mind, memories of past falls.

When the wind blew like a sigh, the sad song of when summer ends,

I dreamt of you, saw you, spoke with you in secret passions and tender whispers

only to wake and forget it all.

When the jades and olives of leaves bent before the gale bowing to a chill in the air;

not a cold departure from the searing heat of long sunny days,

but a subtle knowledge of winter's coming.

And i closed my eyes against the unexpected coolness of the air,

then look down at my hands--

a boy's hands, hands that should have protected me from a fall with the skill they

possessed-- skill to do something

I would try...try but fail

Although i wished with all my heart that those hands were powerful

enough to push past

all the obstacles in my way,

they were still the hands of a boy, just the hands of a boy.

When the greens gave way to orange and red,

the colors of only slightly dying trees,

the color of blood,

i passed through pain as if entering another country, crossing a line

of demarcation so

severe that i could never go back to where/who i was before.

It was probably then that the edges of darkness found me,

the distant whispers of winter's intractable decision.

When the oranges and reds faded to the yellows and browns

marking the trees' souls beautiful transmigration,

i begin dreaming of you yet again.

I could not see you, could not know of you, yet

i had to live with (for) the fact that you were

out there. Somewhere.

When shades of hazel and auburn filled the arms of trees as if they

were offering a gift

heavenward, we met.

Unexpected, unannounced, four blue eyes dancing around

two faces filled with one love.

we met

And finally i knew myself:

flawed, but not without conviction;

nervous, but not without courage;

broken-hearted, but not without love, for love.

we kissed:

softly like the first snow on bare-limbed branches,

deeply like thunder drowning out the wind's dark voice,

fiercely like lightning scattering the shadows of my heart

and now

Now i can celebrate the autumn and not the fall.

I can remember the times of triumph and not dwell on the mistakes

and the hands of time that once

pulled me toward progress,

pushed me away from despair.

Now time means nothing to me.

I cherish the present.

The future will come and take me when it will, of the past i've had my fill...

I cherish the present.

I love the way the winter heaven looks when the clouds are gone

and the sky is blue.

I cherish the present and i cherish you.

8.10.1997