An awesome auburn dawn stripes billowing clouds,
Pebbling, piebalding them in piecemeal array,
Like grace removes our puzzled mind's grey shrouds,
We're set to welcome yet one more auspicious day.
Are we like the Egyptian scarab beetle's state,
Shovelling our own dung before us 'til wings sprout,
And we learn to speed away to freedom, and there wait
A transformed life, in purer peaceful calm no doubt?
Autumn comes and auburn leaves fall from weeping trees,
According to Thy predestined heavenly will;
Their radiant tones remind us that we please
Thee most, when we engage enquiry, up to our fill.
Fiery red and gold make autumn's burnished tones,
Our scarab shell falls dead, our soul now flies back home!
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