Autumnal Rhythm

Swooping down the wind,
Curving and gliding with abandoned grace,
   The autumn leaves are dancing in the sky.
   What is this random chase?
The sky is dark with moving form,
Dead leaves,
All shapes and many-coloured,
Rising and falling in the dance;
Moving by chance,
Or in obedience to indifferent law?

A single leaf whirls by
Without direction.
Impotent in choice
It flutters to its rest.
Another swoops before.

There is an ordered rhythm
In this chaotic fluttering.
Though rebel leaf should soar above the troop,
Drifting on high,
Or transient fellows wander to the ground –
   A motley heap,
   Scattered awry –
Stand back and see,
They each are part
Of one great harmony.