Let the year strike October in your heart,

And hear the long autumnal after-note

Echo in bronze and ring again in gold.

Be still, and feel it vibrate in your throat.

Let the snow fall, and whiten on your arm,

Drift on your shoulder, blow, and blow you blind.

Stand as you always have, alone; receive

The frost; await midwinter in your mind.

Up from the dark soil underneath your roots

Summer will come, and all your boughs be green.

But take the summer as you took the cold.

Exult, ache in your million leaves, and lean,

Lean on the wind, grow taller toward the sun.

Send down your roots until you grapple rock.

You will be ready for storms then, by night,

Or birds by day in a sudden silver flock.