The Resurrection of Fall

Crimson colors of autumn like the flames of purgatory,

Stripping us down to the bare-naked branches of youth.

Where we stand before the mirror of ourselves, itself.

Our life flashing before our eyes, instantaneously,

we understand the fallacy of our ways.

The sapling blossoms in the sleeping seed to return the original image.

Wind carries the leaves of outgrown conscious like a snake sheds its skin.

The flames of transformation, red orange and yellow, the resurrection of fall.