It is when the air begins to thin
The buds and leaves take their leave
The day never truly wakes up, midday as eve
That natures mystery calls to us
Us who yearn to be whole and good
It is when the greens and blues become reds and golds
When the baby pinks take down the deep crimsons
When broad brush replaces fluff in lofty holds
That the earth cries to us
Us who try so hard
It is on those long and early journeys
When the wait til holidays seems a distant haze
It is as the air lights with smoke, bang and coloured blaze
That's when the season calls to us
Us who seek to escape
It cries
"You who yearn to be whole and good, try and try and yet flee,
Listen to the rhythm of this season who watches as life begins to peel
Who is not hot nor cold, nor light nor dark, nor happy nor sad, nor good nor bad
Listen to the season that sits in the seat between two giants,
That is dying but not dead, that is old but wondrous
Listen to the season that creaks with tension in a haunting dance between laughter and despair
Between life and death
Listen and believe.
No comments:
Post a Comment