Autumn has arrived, yet the sky is cloudless. The sun is shining brightly, but it brings no warmth. The soft fragrance of the shiuli flowers floats in the breeze, and the sound of fallen dry leaves echoes everywhere. Fields are golden with ripened paddy, but my heart feels strangely restless.
Standing beneath the shade of the tree, I find myself lost in thoughts of someone far away. The whole world seems quiet, but my heart trembles with unease.
My beloved is absent – and without her, the essence of autumn feels incomplete. The mind asks itself — is autumn truly the season of love? Why then does the heart feel so empty, so helpless, so barren? The rustling of dry leaves whispers loneliness. The fragrance of flowers awakens longing. The ripening of crops, though abundant, does not bring joy to my heart.
Perhaps autumn itself is the “Palua” (wanderer of longing) – a season that, despite its beauty, wraps the heart in silence and yearning, and awakens the endless wait for love.
The autumn sky holds within it a strange beauty. The blue expanse above, the golden fields below, and the gentle breeze that blows across the earth – all of it weaves together into a magical scene.
Yet in this season of abundance, there lingers a void, an incompleteness. The trees shed their leaves, the branches stand bare, and in that barrenness, a quiet sorrow hides.
The poet within me asks – what is autumn, if not a season of paradox? It is a season of fullness, yet one of emptiness. It is a season of love, yet one of longing.
The playful dance of falling leaves, the fragrance of shiuli blossoms, the call of the koel – all bring back memories of love.
And yet, the absence of the beloved, turns this beauty into melancholy.
Autumn seems to whisper:
“This is the time to wait, to remember, to yearn.”
It is as if the heart itself becomes a wanderer, searching for love in every rustling leaf, in every fading flower, in every golden paddy field. And thus, autumn becomes not just a season, but a mirror of the soul’s longing – a reminder that beauty is incomplete without love, and abundance feels barren without companionship.
What exactly is the meaning of autumn?
Why does this season of beauty, with its golden light and fragrance of flowers, also carry the heavy silence of separation? What is the secret message hidden in its heart?
Autumn is the poet’s season – it is the time when words and emotions awaken together. Every falling leaf seems to hold a story, every withering flower whispers of love unfulfilled.
The heart becomes restless, searching for its missing companion. Autumn reminds us of incompleteness, of love that is awaited but not yet found. When the soft sunlight falls on ripened paddy fields, and the koel sings its sweet notes, one feels both joy and sorrow intertwined. The golden beauty of nature outside, cannot erase the loneliness within. The soul yearns for union, but the silence of separation deepens.
Autumn teaches that beauty is fragile, that fulfillment is never complete, that even abundance carries the shadow of emptiness. Perhaps this is why the human heart, despite living amidst prosperity, keeps searching for the eternal – for love that is undying, for togetherness that is beyond time.
Thus, autumn becomes a metaphor of life itself.
It is not merely a season of nature, but a reminder of the soul’s eternal longing. The play of leaves, the call of birds, the fragrance of flowers – all become symbols of the heart’s journey, from separation to union, from yearning to fulfilment. And so, autumn is both beautiful and sorrowful – a season that enchants the eyes but unsettles the heart.
A season that awakens poetry and transforms longing into song.
Yet autumn is not merely a season of barrenness. Hidden within its silence lies the rhythm of creation. The fallen leaves nourish the soil, preparing it for new life to emerge. The trees that stand bare today will bloom again with fresh leaves and flowers. Thus, autumn is not only about loss – it is also about hope, renewal, and continuity.
The poet sees in autumn a deeper truth:
that life itself is woven from both union and separation, from joy and sorrow, from fulfillment and incompleteness. The heart may grieve for what is lost, but it must also prepare for what is to come. Every silence hides a song, every barrenness conceals the seed of abundance.
So autumn whispers to the soul:
“Do not despair in separation. Beyond this quietness, a new spring awaits. From the withered branches, blossoms shall return. From the emptied fields, new crops shall rise. From longing shall emerge fulfillment. And from sorrow shall be born joy.”
Autumn therefore is both an end and a beginning, both a farewell and a promise. It teaches us that nothing is eternal – not pain, not happiness, not even longing. Everything flows like the seasons, and in that cycle, the heart learns to embrace both loss and hope.
Autumn, then, is the eternal metaphor of life itself – a season that teaches us how to endure separation, how to carry longing, and how to await the inevitable dawn of renewal.
Autumnis more than a passing season – it is a mirror of the human soul. Just as trees shed their leaves and fields prepare for renewal, life too carries moments of loss and longing that eventually blossom into hope and fulfillment. The rustle of dry leaves, the fragrance of flowers, and the silence of empty fields remind us that beauty and sorrow walk hand in hand. Yet within that silence lies the promise of spring – a reminder that no separation is permanent, and no emptiness is final.In this way, autumn teaches us one of life’s greatest truths: that endings are never the end, but the beginning of something new.
