Walking through autumn woods

Autumn leaves crisp gently under my feet
as I walk along the somber woodland trails.
Nature is surely beauty, nature is surely death -
and yet, so full of verdant vibrant life.
The air around me wakes with every breath,
so surely here my soul might find its peace.

But what subtle form of paradise is peace?
What paths shall I mark with my own feet
or foliage shall I stir with heavy breath
as I track the wild and feral animal trails?
The forest eaves are dying while full of life,
yet the leaves I trample are crushed in death.

Nature is an endless cycle of life and death -
animals are born alone and rarely die in peace.
What spirit propels them forward into life
and moves me to trample leaves under my feet?
The autumn air chills breezy twilit trails -
Sun sinking deeper and mimicking my breath.

A sudden flash of movement steals my breath -
a rabbit caught in a trap, awaiting certain death.
No more will its white tail travel these trails,
for it, death brings a certain solemn peace -
no longer will it feel the trap clenched on its feet,
but yet, no longer will it breathe in happy life.

What happiness belongs with us in life
that we are gifted by sentient thought and breath?
Why live our lives, constantly moving our feet,
if the end result for all of us is death?
I sought the wood's tranquility for peace
while hiking along the cooling animal trails.

Night descends on the solemn woodland trails,
nocturnal animals wake and slowly come to life.
And in the quiet stillness, a certain peace
begins to fill my soul with every breath.
The scents of autumn remind me yet of death,
but I stand in shadow, confident on my feet.

We move upon our own two feet through life.
The trails are many, but each deliberate breath
moves us closer to death, and ultimately, peace.

-Lady Rosalind Snowbringer, Wind Walker

Penned by my hand on the 20th of Midautumn, in the year 94 MA.