October 18, 1998
Before the first blush of color alters the landscape, the wind has already delivered Autumn’s first chilling kiss, signaling summer’s end. From that moment, change comes swiftly. Sister Winter looks on from the shadows, confident in her knowing, patient in her task. The transition occurs almost overnight, leaving the trees and valleys painted in rusty gold crimson splendor.
Autumn sparks a dance of joy; her voice lingering on the crisp morning air. Hers is a song of gentle thanks and gracious farewell to sister summer, who now readies for a three season nap. Summer has blessed man with yet another generous harvest and seed to sow after winter’s thaw. Try as we might, we cannot alter or resist time’s unflinching momentum.
Autumn’s gift is a stunning visual spectacle as she serenades the fields, steep canyons, vast forests and remaining wilderness with her soulful lullaby. She offers a brief space of reflection, which connects the land to our beating hearts, reminding us that as one thing ends another begins. Autumn song is the spirit voice of falling leaves, peaceful surrender, and the perfect harmony shared between all four sister seasons.
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Posted: Oct 2012
About this poem:Wow, this was written 14 years ago. There is much reflection with autumn's coming. What have I accomplished this whole past year? As I take stock, I feel the sting of yet another good~bye in my life. Each season turns yet another page of that life. Live well. Laugh often!~