The Land Called October

Weary footsteps through rain-soaked leaves
Months of wandering have brought me here
October — a land unlike any other
Its diversity delights the wandering eye
The coloured crowns of mighty trees
The flowers in their blazing hues
Cry, "Look at me!" before you pass.

I come from the Land of Summer
Where sunlight warmed the open earth
And waves rolled gently towards the shore
Where light once reigned in all its glory
But here, all things must yield
To lengthening nights, yhe cold moon and sparkling stars
While stags roar their autumn desire.

I meet the Bog Woman in the mist
And feel her icy arms embrace me
My vision blurs, the world grows small
Yet still I greet this ancient creature
For curiosity conquers fear
And draws me deeper into her realm
Where she reigns, a doubtful sovereign.

"Who inhabits this strange country?
October, so the map declares —
Have I wandered down a road to nowhere?"
Her silent laughter rises through the mist
Her answer cool against the stillness
Deafening in the damp and heavy air
With scents of fallen generations and decay.

"Two peoples struggle for this land
First come the Librans, then the Scorpios
So much alike, yet worlds apart
One fading as the other rises
One cherishes beauty and harmony
The other seeks what lies concealed
Beyond the world of pleasant things.

The Librans know the art of balance
Their gentle charm invites the stranger
Venus sets the trees ablaze with colour
And guards the tenderness of love
Even as the darkness gathers
They embrace the world's diversity
And leave a place for others still.

The Scorpios swiftly claim their ground
Passion burns beneath their silence
They see what others fail to notice
And tear the veils from hidden truths
They fall, yet rise with greater strength
And at the borders of this fading land
Face the unknown without surrender."

The Bog Woman's words dissolve in mist
The trees still glow in gold and crimson
The wind moves softly through the firs
And heavy clouds hang low above
The days grow damp with patient waiting
While daylight slowly meets its death
And darkness enters ever deeper.

October is a turning point
A land from which there is no return
Come wander through its scents and colours
Its sounds and meteorological Ragnarök
While winter gathers beyond the hills
Now gentle, warm, and full of promise
Now cold and threatening in its silence.

October's carousel keeps turning
Beneath the pale and fading sun
Then halts in rain-streaked, restless winds
The leaves fall as all growth ceases
Earthworms crawl across the sodden roads
Beasts grow fat while birds take flight
Escaping from the cold of this strange land.

I must pass through this borderland
And meet the people who breathe within
So like myself, yet strangely different
I draw my coat against the cold
And find its colours beneath my skin
While somewhere beyond the gathering mist
I await the rebirth of mystery.