poeming on a melancholy autumn afternoon

First Day of Autumn, 2014

And the light, receding, receding. 
And the warmth, receding, receding. 
And my happiness...
                                 Ebbing and flowing. 

I cannot let my happiness be dependent on
the light and the warmth around me. 
Even as the warmth and the light impact 
my mood, they are too variable...
                                                   Ebbing and flowing. 

Instead, right now, let me be the warmth
in the Southern Hemisphere 
or the burning of the light and heat
in the upper atmosphere...
                                         Ebbing and flowing. 

Or let me emulate our sun itself, 
luminous light and heat, constant. 
Let me radiate contentness 
and abide in the here and now of being...
                                                                ebb and flow itself. 


I lost the first draft of this poem just after I finished it. The first few lines came back to me readily enough, but the middle and end changed - into what I think is actually a better poem, even though only a little of the complexity remains.  

Ah, who knows. But I cannot change what I cannot change. I can only abide in the here and now. 

Which is the entire point, isn't it?