Dawn’s light cuts its way through the night
In a single minute pierce.
Frost laden grass clings to life,
Blanketed in troves of colorful death.
Frigidness has entered air’s door,
And leaves trickle down to earth slowly,
In soft puffs of breeze,
As they twirl and flitter to an ancient dance.
Up above, forests are kingly crowned
In canopies of electric yellow.
And a robin casts a song into the air,
In hopes of a reciprocated melody.
A misty gray haze lingers above the surface of a lake,
Haunting the waters last traces of warmth.
And tall slim trees make the sun shutter through shadows
In gleams of fiery pulses.
Black arteries of bark
Bloom piercing red goblets of blood.
And eager branches reach out to one another,
In a frenzy of friendly greeting.
A coyote tunes its ears into the day’s sounds,
Sensitive to even the slightest draw of breath.
Trunks and branches long fallen, decay outside of time,
With a hushed groan for acknowledgement.
Mighty oaks drop its glistening brown offspring,
Full of wondrous hopeful anticipation.
Yet leaves, whose veins were once charged with illuminated vibrancy,
Are beginning to dwindle and fade into a dull grim.
The old woods sit in silence, listening for its long time friend,
To sing a lullaby into its ears,
And one can tell its whisper is stirring up archaic dreams,
As nature begins to close its eyes and fall asleep.