Beneath the paleness of the autumn sky,
The tired ground takes respite from the heat,
Life departs with green of leaves fallen dry,
Barren and ready for growth to repeat.

Cold wind crackles against the branches bare,
And mornings now too quickly greet the night,
While the birds and butterflies disappear,
Warm raindrop kisses wet with chilling bite.

The weight of the gray air wilts the flowers.
Have pastels washed away for evermore?
Weary nature calls upon its powers
And from its weakest point starts to restore.

I shield my eyes in refuge from the cold,
Imagining the life there is to mourn.
Then I’ll recall the lesson nature told.
You need a little death to be reborn.