The seasons can’t decide and neither can I —
stay or go, forward or back,
do I shed my clothes and feel the sun on skin,
warmth enveloping like…

Cooing birds and rustling leaves, the sound of
a resting place. Be still and hear the voice…

What an atrocity this is, again
it hurts the heart to read the headlines
willful disregard and disarray
dehumanization and…

Threshold crossings, black full moon, and autumn
sun on golden leaves, new worlds unfolding,
dawn arises…

You can feel the season changing,
dark of the moon into a new day morn.
The first golden leaf appears, and another.