When the last vestiges of heavy summer
have fled from the hills and fields
and old leaves litter the ground
like the ashes of a great bonfire
When the tree’s last lingering leaves
cling desperately to its deadened boughs
rustling in the crisp cool autumn air
until the wind plucks them from their perch
and they wander slowly towards the earth
when brisk and cloudy mornings give way
to dreary nights of cold dark drizzle
and the trees are bent over in shadow
like aged men full of pain
yet the hearts of the trees are glad
and they sing under the grey formless clouds
the fiery foliage mourns not
for summers gone by
nor for springtime, full of birth and blooming
the rustle and crunch of leaves underfoot
holds rather an air of whispered excitement
the chill breeze full of hope and promise
and all nature stands in awe
of Mother’s bravery and insight
for she knows all too well
the danger of clinging to summer greens
until the last flower has wilted and died
and things that once were fair and pure
wither and rot in the moist heat of afternoon sun
Rather she casts down the living stems
at the peak of their life and luster
painting them gold and orange and red
as a proud testimony to her power and might
and the trees are not afraid
in anxious anticipation they wait
sleeping under their cold white blankets
hiding their excitement from the world
until Mother says the time is right
for flowers to push up from damp earth
and young green leaves to sprout
in new and varied forms and colors
forgetting not the joys of past years
but starting fresh from the very beginning
building on old hopes and dreams
until all the earth is green with life again
and Sun smiles down on their joyous bounty
The night stars sparkle like smiling eyes.
Hence the wisdom of Mother Nature is shown
not in her steadfast longevity
but in the wisdom of change
which allows for rebirth and growth
a clean slate for every year
on which new hopes can truly bloom
and old doubts and fears are cast away,
fading into twilight and a new dawn.
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