Summer leaves,
Succumbs to winter’s burning chill,
Laughing song-birds,
Who once sang at the birth of dawn,
Are finally still…

Mother Earth turns to fast
For my slow heavy feet,
Catching some of us,
Still clad in August’s dusty clothes.

My friend whispers softly,
That I have mocked the seasons every year,
That even as the nights begin to cool,
He feels me withdrawing into my self,
As though to keep the core of me,
Safe and warm…

Winter brings such sadness,
Its harsh beauty too much for me to take,
I build the fire to keep me warm,
But it doesn’t keep out the cold…

Remembering the warmth of autumn,
I wait silently for Old Mother Earth,
To heave a sigh of relief,
At winters end,
Try to keep the stored warmth in,
Not let it escape through the window panes,
Taking my spirit with it as it drains,
The warmth from the room and me!

Seeking peace,
For life returns as Spring enters,
And I too shall be captured by the world’s song,
Shall rejoice and allow rebirth,
Remembering the beauty of the earth,
Smelling the rich black soil,
As I sift it through my fingers,
The lovely magic of the inert seeds,
Waiting silently,
As I watch-
Life grows again!

In Spring,
When the winds blow gently,
And the rains come,
To cleanse the earth once more,
I hear the echo of eternity,
Whispering from plant to plant,
Trading stories centuries old,
Laughing at the fading cold,

I hold life’s seeds in my hand,
Treating each gentle pod,
As if it were the last,
Letting them sing to me,
The songs I was taught as a child,
Loving the deep and dark wild,
Bloom of their youth!

My silly friend,
Holds my hand,
Whispers softly,
I am so glad to see you alive,
Once again…