Autumn is myopic—blinded by fallen leaves—
yet under its blindfold, a suppressed serpent heaves.
Winter seeks to placate beneath comforter of snow,
but what the serpent dreams of no mortal mind can know.
Those qualms of lying dormant under the frozen banks
may be released in springtime, when nature earns our thanks
by mopping up the snow flow and pushing out the flowers,
covering the naked limbs with buds and leaves and bowers.
The world so carefully balanced between its two extremes
that each and every moment is much more than it seems.
The coin of life that’s minted by a larger mind
may in microcosm seem to have us in a bind.
That great hand of nature flipping the coin at will.
One side giving birth while the other’s sure to kill.
This irony of opposites that ties us to this ground
is the majesty of nature––both cruel and profound.