AUTUMN RAIN by DH Lawrence

AUTUMN  RAIN  by DH Lawrence  The plane leaves fall black and wet on the lawn; the cloud sheaves in heaven’s fields set droop and are drawn in falling seeds of rain; the seed of heaven on my face falling — I hear again like echoes even that softly pace heaven’s muffled floor, the winds that tread out all the grain of tears, the store harvested in the sheaves of pain caught up aloft: the sheaves of dead men that are slain now winnowed soft on the floor of heaven; manna invisible of all the pain here to us given; finely divisible falling as rain.