Lord, I am here, listening—

to the whisper of your wind.

Leaves turn,

slowly surrendering their colors,

standing bare in quiet grace.

Their beauty sinks inward,

rooted in silence,

strong in stillness,

enduring beyond what’s seen.

They keep their promise long enough

to join the secret choir,

a chorus swelling

into a hidden symphony—

sometimes like Handel’s Messiah,

sometimes like Beethoven’s Fifth.

Ah—how my heart falls,

again and again,

in love with Autumn.

© TaeHun Yoon, 2024