Autumn Whispers

In eternity, where the stream of light is running, There are rotating slowly wheels of time, Which is weaving on the gold machine Its multicolored carpet. Our invisible engine Is setting in motion the driving belts. Capricious weaving pattern is blinking, And always counterbalances the weight The one who will combine ripened crop in a bunch, Will measure everything and bless. The darkness entangles and fights us down, Only sometimes the lightning for an instant From gloom will snatch out a piece of pattern, And we, have woken up from non-existence, Some fragment see: chimeric, Frightening or clear silhouettes of life. We hold only grains in a hand; We don