If all of summer is alive

            And all of winter dead

All of spring the products of rebirth

            Then what of autumn?

The moments caught between life and death…

            The life not dead but dying…

And in death creating a beauty

            So breathtakingly surreal

                        One easily forgets its purpose

Fooled by the aesthetics

            Late September brings

It tends to escape our memories

            That it's only beautiful because it's dying.

Perhaps this too-often-unseen life

            Senses its nearing end

And is merely taking its last chance

            To shine its brightest colors

Screaming oranges and yellows

            And bleeding its boldest reds

Burning the colors of life

            In its glowing coat of flames

And these leaves, once they have  changed

            Into the beauty of death and fire

Only then do they earn

            Their first taste of freedom

To think such fragile innocence

            Spends its lifetime only waiting

       For the moment before its death

Breaking free from its breathing chain

            To float its long awaited dance

This last and only spiraling dance

            In its graceful fall to fate.

We…selfish, blind-hearted beings

            Take for granted our freedom, our fire, our dance

While some life receives these gifts

            For only one brief, fleeting moment

                        And at the price that it be their last.

Perhaps this is the beauty

            We are so often blinded to

That with one moment, one dance

            To live before it dies

This, what "natural beauty" defines

            That which only shines its brightest

                        When its light flickers away…

~Corrie...

My perfect hero,

Thankyou my sweetheart.  You are my Inspiration.. My everything. I love you.