Autumn: A Cycle of Life That Mirrors Our Lives

By Lisa Ruimy Holzkenner 

Human life and all creatures on earth can be compared to the four seasons.

Each has its own rhythm and rhyme 

celebrating birth, mourning death.

 

Autumn, a whimsical double edge,

brings hope and sadness to humanity and to all living things.

Autumn’s arrival takes summer’s embellishing light far beyond our sight.

The sun is no longer in its prime, yet its splendor shines its rays 

as though it cannot leave us.

Nights come early, dawns late, a crisp chill fills the air,

welcoming us to a season of a sweet slumber, 

a reprieve from the tangled chains of worries of waking hours.

A sweet slumber as dreams take flight into a timeless space and time

were the hues of the heart, mind and truth align 

to understand our place in this vast universe. 

 

Still the mystic wind blows at all hours, waking me out of sleep,

a restless sound like a tenuous ghost carrying out its rude nature, 

wrenching leaves from the tree’s loving bosom–the tree, 

exercising its invincible strength to survive against the eternal bond with death,

its bare surface hardens, roots journeying deep down the earth.

The leaves wrenched from what they loved and knew, wept. 

The tree with a primal sympathy whispering to its leaves —

 “trust the timeless rhythms of the earth, and ride the wave of change without fears.”

The tree wisely, without enmity, lets dead things go in peace 

for it knows nature destroys and preserves, everything renews.

 

The sweet birds never forgot the tree’s branches and twigs

upon which they perched and sang of love for hours,

attracting mates and building their nests,

now leave for a warm clime, singing harmonious notes in gratitude, 

reminding the tree that with the coming spring, they will return 

once again and sing their thankful hymns.  

Humbled and in awe, I stand amidst this sublime moment nature gives.

Trees dressed in their autumnal leaves, a surreal beauty smiling in incandescent colors, 

exploding into a rhapsody of yellow, brown, red, gold. 

From branches and twigs, the leaves reluctantly falling 

leaf by leaf, spinning and twisting up, down through the air, 

fluttering gently into the lap of time.

 Yes, the cycle of life plays nature’s rhyme.

The beauty of autumn leaves, warmed my heart, 

 But, watching the leaves withered and fall to the ground  

my heart in anguish, I cried.

Autumn, a whimsical double edge,

A melancholic season filled with beauty and heartbreak. 

Oh, hope, may the wound of all loss heal with the rebirth of spring.

Primordial scent of pleasure and pain permeates the air. 

Oh, if these leafy hieroglyphs could talk, 

what would they foretell?!

 

Oh, mortality, in sadness I recall my mother’s words,

everything under the sun has a beginning, middle and end.

Oh, autumn, the life cycle of leaves 

mirrors the cycle of our own lives. 

The mystic link with all life on earth

begins with the joy of birth, growing and blossoming,

later or soon, our dear soul at dusk will dim as nature reclaims

the gift it gave to all living things.

 

Death, I believe, is not the end of our being,

but a transition to a different form of existence.

Yes, forms may change, 

yet the essence remains the same,

as every season carries within it a bit of 

winter, spring, summer and fall,

so, all creatures on earth

contain all that has existed and exists and will exist.

 

Death does not scare me, 

and I shall have no sorrow when my time comes.

With a sense of serenity, 

I accept the cycle of life in its fullness

and embrace every moment of life as a gift. 

In meditating I find peace within 

for having known the joy of love, cherished family, friendships, and 

the sheer beauty of nature.

And for having lived a life full of diversity. 

Beneath my skin, between the rhyme of my thoughts 

and the rhythm within my soul,

I recognize we all desire to know

when our autumn season calls to have its say, 

when our ripened souls behold the unknown– 

ah, we, at peace know we left our descendants 

a kinder, healthier planet to cherish, celebrate and enjoy.

Oh, may the beauty, the bounty, the gift of each season 

warm our hearts and our souls every day.

The beauty, the bounty, be blessed. 

 

 sweet slumber as dreams take flight into a timeless space 

were the hues of the heart, mind and truth align 

to understand our place in this vast universe. 

 

Still the mystic wind blows at all hours, waking me out of sleep,

a restless sound like a tenuous ghost carrying out its rude nature, 

wrenching leaves from the tree’s loving bosom–the tree, 

exercising its invincible strength to survive against the eternal bond with death,

its bare surface hardens, roots journeying deep down the earth.

The leaves wrenched from what they loved and knew, wept. 

The tree with a primal sympathy to its leaves whispering in secret

to trust the timeless rhythms of the earth, ride the wave of change without dread.

The tree wisely, without enmity, lets dead things go in peace 

for it knows nature destroys and preserves, everything renews.

 

The sweet birds never forgot the tree’s branches and twigs

upon which they perched and sang of love for hours,

attracting mates and building their nests,

now leave for a warm clime, singing harmonious notes in gratitude, 

reminding the tree that with the coming spring, they will return 

once again and sing their thankful hymns.  

Humbled and in awe, I stand amidst this sublime moment nature gives.

Trees dressed in their autumnal leaves, a surreal beauty smiling in incandescent colors, 

exploding into a rhapsody of yellow, brown, red, gold. 

From branches and twigs, the leaves reluctantly falling 

leaf by leaf, spinning and twisting up, down through the air, 

fluttering gently into the lap of time.

 Yes, the cycle of life plays nature’s rhyme.

The beauty of autumn leaves, warmed my heart, 

 But, watching the leaves withered and fall to the ground  

my heart in anguish, I cried.

Autumn, a whimsical double edge,

A melancholic season filled with beauty and heartbreak. 

Oh, hope, may the wound of all loss heal with the rebirth of spring.

Primordial scent of pleasure and pain permeates the air. 

Oh, if these leafy hieroglyphs could talk, 

what would they foretell?!

 

Oh, mortality, in sadness I recall my mother’s words,

everything under the sun has a beginning, middle and end.

Oh, autumn, the life cycle of leaves 

mirrors the cycle of our own lives. 

The mystic link with all life on earth

begins with the joy of birth, growing and blossoming,

later or soon, our dear soul at dusk will dim as nature reclaims

the gift it gave to all living things.

 

Death, I believe, is not the end of our being,

but a transition to a different form of existence.

Yes, forms may change, 

yet the essence remains the same,

as every season carries within it a bit of 

winter, spring, summer and fall,

so, all creatures on earth

contain all that has existed and exists and will exist.

 

Death does not scare me, 

and I shall have no sorrow when my time comes.

With a sense of serenity, 

I accept the cycle of life in its fullness

and embrace every moment of life as a gift. 

In meditating I find peace within 

for having known the joy of love, cherished family, friendships, and 

the sheer beauty of nature.

And for having lived a life full of diversity. 

Beneath my skin, between the rhyme of my thoughts 

and the rhythm within my soul,

I recognize we all desire to know

when our autumn season calls to have its say, 

when our ripened souls behold the unknown– 

ah, we, at peace know we left our descendants 

a kinder, healthier planet to cherish, celebrate and enjoy.

Oh, may the beauty, the bounty, the gift of each season 

warm our hearts and our souls every day.

The beauty, the bounty, be blessed. 

AUTHOR BIOGRAPHY

Lisa Ruimy Holzkenner is a psychoanalyst and family therapist with extensive clinical experience in the treatment of post-traumatic stress disorder, early childhood development, and couples and family therapy. Ms. Holzkenner has lectured extensively on her clinical work in the United States and overseas.

She was born in Morocco, lived briefly in France and Israel, and has resided in Chelsea in Manhattan for the past 58 years. Ms. Holzkenner loves photographing birds, flowers, and anything visual that creates nostalgia for what we were, what we are, and what we always will be: part of nature. Her photographs have appeared in Persimmon Tree online magazine and various other publications, as well as in a traveling exhibition on the life of Bayard Rustin.  

Her poem, “Hidden Identities in Transition,” inspired by the Jews of Belmonte, Portugal, and an essay, “When Understanding Comes,” both appeared in the Jewish Writing Project; her poem on Belmonte also appeared in the United Federation of Teachers’ publication, “Reflections in Poetry and Prose 2015”, and in the Autumn/Winter 2016 issue of HaLapid, the magazine for The Society for Crypto-Judaic Studies. In April 2016, her poem “A Raven in Our Oasis at Penn South” was published in Chelsea Now newspaper. On May 31, 2018, her piece “Birds Know No Borders” was published on the Israeli Birding Portal in both English and Hebrew. Ms. Holzkenner was also profiled in the Summer 2018 / Volume XXXIX No. 2 Newsletter of the New York City Audubon. On July 19, 2019, her poem “Ode to Cattle Egret” was published in Chelsea Now newspaper. Her poem “In Search of Meaning Amid Coronavirus Pandemic” was published via ChelseaCommunityNew.com on July 31, 2020. To read that poem, click here.

Ms. Holzkenner has two children, Bella Holzkenner Pickett and Stewart Holzkenner, and has five grandchildren, for whom she writes storybooks and poetry.

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