As the trees and the sky wear a more somber hue,
At once beautiful, sad, and yet strange,
And the lowering rays of late autumn imbue
Every sight with a feeling of change,
My soul drifts in-between the summer’s bright stream,
And the barren, grey sleep of the winter soul-dream.
It remembers the feeling of sunsets long past,
In Novembers so long ago,
And the season of joy that never could last,
That would soon lay beneath the cold snow,
Yet it flew to new worlds that the eyes had not seen,
On the wings of those thoughts that it found in-between.
Or in March, when the grey shrouds surround the pale sun,
And long shadows still haunt the day,
Or the dim light that hangs before dawn has begun
In the stillness before that first ray—
Oh how my soul revels as if it had flown
From the world, in those moments between what is known.
In that timeless, still moment between wake and sleep,
When the truth of our dreams seems so real,
What wells up from the dark and fathomless deep,
That our conscious thoughts never reveal?
And all of the thoughts of the silent and dead,
That are present with me, though forever unsaid.
Daniel is a poet living in Houston, Texas. He has spent much of his life fighting for the ideals of classical culture and poetry. His first volume of poetry is entitled Voices on the Wind. His latest book of poems is Places the Soul Goes.