Now Is The Time

One season recedes with a final shout out to the new. What next?

Now is the time

For summer sun receding

Turning warmth to crispness,

Brightness to the sparkle of new colors

Waiting to display their glory

Revealing crystal clear views,

A perfect picture.

Oranges, golds and reds now replacing

The greens of summer.

Precious golds, vibrant reds and warm orange

Bringing beauty even in coming death,

Before turning into dull browns

That no one will notice.

Falling, falling to the ground,

The sounds of crunching underfoot

From the letting go of the old.

The last of fruit bearing plants

Ready to change gear and begin a new phase.

Winds rushing in and sweeping the house

With a final shout out to the new season.

What next? The nests are empty,

The sounds of birds fewer

As they take off for warmer climes

And all creation waits expectantly,

For even as the days grow darker,

They usher in a time of stillness.

Reviews

[Chris Shaw]

This is beautiful poetry. Rich in imagery which moves with time. It gives me the feel of the lull before the storm. I am not a fan of winter coldness and its bite, but autumn colour can be celebrated. I enjoyed reading you this morning and the lovely canvas painted. Thank you.

Chris

[Christine]

Thank you for this. I love that you liken it to painting a canvas, for that is how it feels for me.

[Buddhistboy73]

A lovely poem about the changing season....

You reference the best points about this new season we are entering....whilst also mentioning the decay and death of the old season.....
Btw....have you read any of the Persian poet Rumi?

This kinda reminds me of his poem "The Guesthouse".......

Thanks for sharing...:)

BB73

[Christine]

No I haven't. Will look it up. Thank you.