You must have the mind of autumn
to withstand the fluttering leaves,
of dirt-crumbs drifting in your sleeves.
And have felt a bit jaded
to adore the juniper as the décor
the plump pumpkin sitting by the left door
Of the bright November moon; and not to think
Of its mystery in contrast with the night sky
Shining outside your bedroom window
For the observer, who observes in the chaos,
There is wonder in the changing colors,
and magical powers in the whirling wind.