Peeking out, the leaves begin the story
As the world begins to put itself to bed,
First issuing a promise of safekeeping,
“All is well, my children, rest your heads.”
Foliage color crackles in the crispness,
Piercing sharpness makes its message plain.
Pinnacles are reached and then must soften,
Only unloved earth grows unrestrained.
Seasons change, and if one follows gently,
One passes from the living to the next,
Resisting nature’s drawing down to silence,
Brings suffering and sadness to the vexed.
But Winter can creep gently into morning,
Whispering its stillness to all who hear.
“Rest and know that All things work together.
The sun of Spring is coming. Do not fear.”