Seasons
The wind, silent messenger
Exerts itself upon the lea
Flowers and grass bend to submit
The last petals fly, carried afar
Their beauty and glory now past
Trees stiffen from the chill
Their leaves aloft no more
A golden and green Summer
Succumbs to an earthy grayness
Always it comes, always as sudden
A Sun sets, somehow distant, cool
The birds take flight one last time
Then race to their lofty abodes
Aware of the impending chilled darkness
In silence they contemplate
The next day's Sun
Consciously and collectively
The message brought forth in silence
Unseen, had been received
Earth , home to all things, is changed
Roost, contemplate, change will come again
The messenger will see to it...
