Naked trees shiver as the wind
grows cold. The end of time, with
their once vibrant cloak now shed.
A lop sided sun skims across
wet earthly bows, darkness oozing
leaving a shrinking puddle of light.
The scattered leaves of yesterday,
no longer offer any crunch to those
striding forward, wrapped in tight layers.
Stillness has come, the world gently
kneels in the quiet. Growth has lost
it’s workforce and their tools disarmed.
The season for reordering now arrived,
only in silence can anything living heal.
Letting go, the greatest of medicine.
(Poem taken from Seasons)