The piercing call of a broad-shouldered hawk,
A gentle trickle of sunlight cascading through the trees,
Rainbow Trout rising from a flowing stream,
Golden leaves breaking off from branches and taking to the sky,
And the crisp cool autumn wind pushing out the swollen summer heat.
This is the time of reflection,
Nature’s rebuke of summertime contentment,
Flashing her beauty in a sea of burgundy and gold,
Gentle mornings seemingly painted with a divine brush,
Leading to deep blue afternoon skies,
Ending in the cold darkness that warns of winter’s arrival.
My heart cannot help but dance,
For as leaves blow in the mighty wind,
Does my soul take flight,
With the leaves of burgundy and gold,
Into the autumn night.
