In Setting Out

Come with me, my friend, and see the storied hills: 
For autumn’s full of love, and so are we,
We restless searchers as we wander on
Past strands of summer, cobwebs on our hearts.

In setting out, we come to know what’s setting in:
The furniture we’ve moved, the mental flummery
We use in place of seeing more, or differently,
When width, and height, and depth are what we need

To find our place. Let others bring their pretext,
And their subtext, and their fables, we
Must find our context in reality —
So let no voice escape your lips but yours.

The winter always comes, and yet
We feign surprise, as though
The dwindling of our stanzas
Is unique,

So come and see how autumn
On the hills of who you are
Speaks freedom, peace,
And love

To those who’ll hear

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