The economy of autumn
I walked into a temple today.
The doors opened and lured me
Into the vapid shininess of the ever new
I ascended, drifting, on a cloud of chemical blossom
And the beehive below hummed with desire.
I was held up by a priestess.
She read my hands and shook,
Her eyes filled with pity for the lost cause
I had strayed too far, and understood my visit
As my final farewell to the flock.
I looked at the faithful masses,
Hanging on to the eternal summer
As they partook in communion in expense
Of loveless figures, they paid their homage dearly
In the hope of fleeting redemption.
I would extricate myself.
No longer would the almighty number
Define my name in the world of the living
Silently, I pondered the economy of autumn
And my worn shoes took me out.
I walked away, ever further.
When the city of men had faded
I hesitantly came upon a green cathedral
A delicious sweet rotten sainthood lay in waiting
I knew I had come upon holy ground.
I opened my eyes and faced death.
As I fell, a friendly woman whispered
In the rotten leaves of many blessed returns
To give freely and live and die in turn ourselves,
So others may live one fine spring day.