The chilling wind gusts,
Blowing leaves of red and orange,
And whistles a tune in the treetops
While carrying seeds to new homes.
The trees bear no leaves nor fruit,
And the sun tans their already ashen skins,
While underneath life flows
Through the roots to the outstretched arms,
Waiting on the time to come
When new life can spring forth.
When the day comes of lands of greens,
Blooms will awaken to bless the earth with vibrant colors.
Until the ground blossoms with life renewed from decay,
I shall listen to the songs of the restless
And be caressed by the warmth of our star
While pondering the unwavering future,
And unforgettable past.
Soon, very soon,
The browns and grays will fade to colors of spring,
And the circle stays unbroken.
