I often wonder why shades of brown and shades thereof cascade darkened shadows on my life.
An entry into the white of seasons is brought forth by the death of vibrant colors witnessed by millions only hoping they will stay.
The interim between colors of red, yellow, and orange and the white of winter is a strange period in nature.
Much the same exists as the illusion that without the gift of romance in a relationship, darkness exists.
The little things taken for granted grow brown and decay before the solstice of winter.
I marvel at fall’s elixir of colors whose death is spring’s harbinger of life, yet decay comes before the rise of the beauty of spring.
Oh, how could it be that nature’s gifts reflect in our own lives?
For there is great worship laying you down in fresh mown grass or the taste of fallen leaves.
To sip tea across the valley of fog in the spring or taste cinnamon on a chilly fall morn brings rise to my own nature.
My eyes fall to your spring and I just want to feel the warmth of your skin radiating warmth into my own.
If only those locks could cover me as fall’s leaves cover my earth to nourish life for the spring, would I rise up new and fresh each day.
Change is ever evolving in nature and so true in each life that I touch.
For to touch such a fair face as yours is to truly touch my own Heaven on this earth and yet I just wish for a simple look of understanding.
Times change, yet our time has yet to come.
Within the realm of future thought, love gives and takes just as the seasons do within my own land.
When time is given freely, time ticks slowly to nurture the expectations of those who wait.
Yet when time is withheld, as with the vibrant beauty of fall turns to brown, so too will your love.
A testament, an example of honor, of commitment given, growing only in time is all I have to offer.
Spring forth your hand and feel the warmth of cool sand on your hot body as the summer of our life has yet begun.

Rb 11-04-08 ©