“Every man is guilty of all the good he didn’t do.” Voltaire
As autumn swings into its waning arc, I’m thoughtful, as in days and times of yore, Reminding, with its ‘Technicolor’ parks, Dismissing summer ‘lush’ that came before.
The parable for life, renewed once more, As leaves hang loosely, breezes, softly sway, And clinging only by a stem (no more), Bear witness, as their ‘tree sibs’ float away.
With golden, crimson, purple deep arrays, The greenest leaves remain until their time, And nests uncovered, bared and on display As soaring hawks swoop low for prey, then climb.
Man chooses to compose his legacy A leaf-ling has no choice, save just ‘to be’.
I used the Light and Shade challenge this week and Voltaire’s insightful observation, as my inspiration for this sonnet.
Autumn does, indeed, cause me to become more reflective, and as I enjoyed the brilliant foliage here in New Jersey, I could not help but notice that while a profusion of brightly colored leaves fall gently (inevitably) to the ground, a few stubborn ‘greenies’ remain attached, swaying in the gentle October breezes, and hanging on, as if by an invisible thread.
Unlike the falling leaves, the changing of the seasons, and inexorable march of time, ‘man’ has a choice; not about the circumstance of his birth or death, but in how he fills the pages of the volume that become his life story, and ultimately his legacy.