A gloomy day is upon us when the leaves fall,

glistening under the sun as they slowly make their way to ground

Like the wave of a hand, flopping inward and out,

as it motions goodbye.

When the sun is setting and bleeds into the sky

with the oils of a canvas of war

****** red, sinking into the horizon,

gradually burying itself into Earth.

And when the birds decide to leave us in winter,

heading North, like an arrow below the clouds,

signalling to our safety, but we stay nestled around;

we cannot fly.

When the stream’s path has been broken,

and gravity summons the waters to the deadest of ends,

a puddle of joy is formed,

for us to bathe away our sins.

When stars shimmer in the darkest of night

false wishes, like false hopes,

but we look at them and smile.

We marvel at this beauty,

because we wish our partings were as breath-taking.

We wish our tears didn’t look so ugly,

and our hearts wouldn’t ache

and our breaths weren’t so shallow,

as we realize it is time to say farewell.

In nature, everything comes back,

The sun rises again, the leaves grow,

and the birds return to their land,

stars are reborn even waters feed our plants.

But we, we stay just where we are,

and learn to redirect our melancholy,

our energy,

to nature…

Underground.