Ballad of Time
Painted leaves drift past
And dance to Autumn's ballad
The portrait of time
Seasons' journey again framed by nature. After sleeping through the hymns of winter, leaves are born in spring's concerto of renewal. They boldly endure summer's heated tango. But it is in Autumn, when their wardrobe changes and their tether to 'now' is tested, that their vulnerability is shown. I wonder if I will be so brave! I wonder if I will be able to let go so easily... to bid farewell to my security. I wonder if I will embrace Autumn's ballad and dance into the wind, drifting into the sky, or falling to cushion footsteps of those who must journey onward. I wonder....
Dance of drifting leaves
A gift of Autumn's passing
To ballads of time
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As for the personal note in the poem, in my mind, like me, you're already in the autumn phase and it's been very good to you like Indian summer. And we both know that the hard freeze is coming soon.
All my love to you when that happens and now before it does while you are still in the brilliance of your writing productivity.
Ron
budd
flow so smoothly and is very descriptive, it awakens ones' imagination.
Cheers moi spp,
Dan
All I can say is, I can't wait for the cooler weather and "Thank You"
Peace be with you...
John Michael