A clump of brown
dead leaves
peaks out of the green.
Soon it will spread like fire
eating away the last
remnants of summer.
If only it were enough,
the sun, the rain
to keep the cold at bay.
Oh why can’t I stay?
My feet buried in sand,
skin bathed in sunshine,
time forgotten.
Mind a clear blue ocean.
Sit here and know the sand,
the wind enough to say,
“stay.”
“The Earth, the sky
not fade so gray,
the birds not fly away,
stay here and play.”
But then the sky would say,
“What is an ocean with no waves?
A bird that does not fly?
A sky that does not cry?
Without it the flowers would die.
The world is meant to go high
and low the same.
Fast and slow.
Rain and snow.
Life and death
you will come to know.
For change is how life
does flow.”