September whispers, soft and low,
A summer's end, a fall's bright glow.
The leaves begin their dance in air,
As autumn comes with winds to share.
Mother Nature, playing tricks,
With rain that falls, and sun that sticks,
One moment cool, the next, a blaze—
A playful end to summer's days.
Yet in this shifting, turning tide,
There's something more that can't hide—
A chance to start, to dream anew,
As skies turn grey, and winds break through.
I see it in the old man's eyes,
The hope that in these fall-filled skies,
They’ll find a spark, a fresh, clean slate,
Where dreams, like seeds, can germinate.
And as I learned on distant ground,
Where walkabouts bring sight profound,
The unexpected joys appear
When we let go, embrace the year.
Dreams are closer than they seem,
Sometimes they drift just like a stream,
Invisible until they’re true,
Unfolding when we least construe.
As fall winds blow and winter nears,
The river stills, but life adheres—
The fish, the wood, the earth in sync,
Life’s cycles draw us close to think.
Spring blooms with hope, a bright rebirth,
But autumn’s magic holds more worth—
The harvest yields its richest store,
And with it comes a promise more:
Even in the cooling air,
Renewal waits, beyond compare.
In fall, we find the seeds we sow,
A time for change, for dreams to grow.
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