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Sonnet of the day

https://open.spotify.com/track/17syFBLndFVCpHYJan6R0T?si=85788fb362244432
This is how each year begins anew – ’tis Autumn, September,
Month of fruit and wine,
who help with the parting
From the sun – the old cycle of regret,
Which after October leads circularly to November
A time of death and mourning, until in December
Festivities erupt, however much in the chalk
For January already waives the charges
Of which bescheid, and after summer again September.
September for me is the month in which
She Gently stepped near my confused mind
Light sent from the night of time, while He
His finger raised to future and past
Declared Himself the measure of society
She shook no and kept silent and has for our prayer zen.