October’s song breathes
through the boughs as the soul’s clarion call,
it’s when the mind recalls the leaves of past seasons,
slowly sifting out the silvery hues of truth’s blossoms
from the lilac lurid arrays of time’s glow for past harvests.
While the wind blows
its sway in soft serene seductions,
within the echoes from the furrows in thoughts
summoned a thrashing in reflections,
carefully examining the fruit of the heart
as the eyes are entranced by the earthen majesty.
Among the trees and thickets
wandered in other years
where hands groped for messages and meaning,
there arises the flashes of bygone splendor,
the stunning sights that once captivated
and reminds of the steps taken in awe,
those gazes alive in clarity and appreciation
for the true beauty of life.
Footprints left stir with questions
whether the journey sewed the seeds
of what yields a crop
so truly blessed and bountiful.
Once the soil sleeps in fallow surrender
inside the farmer seeks to find
that harmony between what was planted
and what was reaped from the sweat of spirit.
Adding your comment:
This is an intricately-woven tapestry of images and sensations, Poet. Very lovely, detailed descriptions. Good luck in Shy Little Lamb's contest. 
