Golden light dims, warmth drifts away,
Yet the souls linger, refusing decay.
Leaves may redden, branches fall bare,
Frost may slip quietly into the air,
But still, the souls survive the turn,
A flame in the ash, a voice that will burn.
Seasons may change, as they always must,
And bodies may fade back into dust,
But souls, once born, will never die—
They rise, eternal, as the souls fly.
We breathe with the wind that stirs the grass,
Tracing shadows as moments quietly pass.
Sunlight drifts, soft and slow,
But, I think,
The souls never learn what it means to grow.
In my thought they must have to learn it,
They must have to die, to respect those fleet.
Why they survive? why they fly?
Is it true? The silken way they lie!
If Leaves may redden, if branches fall bare,
Should they not cry? to tribute what’s fair!
If Frost may slip quietly into the air,
So, why do they not sleep— is it fair?
I think souls just bow where all must die,
Only through this way do they learn to rise and fly.
We all know the answer, clear and plain,
Souls always bow, to break the chain.
The soul has its own part, yet it hides—
Only eternal love lives, while all else dies.
#thought
This is a meditation on life, death, and the eternal power of the soul. It traces the cycles of nature—leaves redden, branches fall, frost slips quietly—and compares them to the journey of the soul. While bodies fade, the soul, when guided by eternal love, holds a unique power: it can rise, break the chain of mere existence, and transcend mortality.
The questioning lines reflect my wonder: why do some things endure, while others are fleeting? The resolution celebrates that true immortality is not in the soul itself, but in the love it carries—the force that survives even when all else dies.
In essence, I hope this honors the resilience of life, the necessity of death, and the transcendent power of eternal love, leaving me to reflect on my own place in the cycle of existence.