Rain hangs heavy on the trees.
The leaves are ablaze
As the hush of winter looms in the mountains
Like foggy clouds.
I hear the birds calling to one another,
They know that soon it will be time.
The squirrels are busy about their work
And the flowers shine, in a final blaze of glory.
I sense a stilling in my soul,
A willingness to stop my work and watch.
Watch the world prepare for its sleep,
Watch the creatures gather and sow.
Prepare for the awakening to come.
I to prepare,
To rest from my labors,
To dream in the dark clean nights,
And awaken to a new beginning,
Rejoicing at the ability to change,
Season and soul.