Winds of change

It’s time to close up shop from the summer sun

And watch the changing of the guard breathe in a new season

 

It’s time when the earth beckons the trees to release their offerings

Like alms for the needy they weave a coat of many colors preparing for winter’s cold shoulder

 

It’s time when my own limbs begin to feel these changing notions

And I release all those whispered lessons from the trees I once knew

 

The humbled fallen bind together what we no longer need

Hoping that a fellow traveler will pick them up and tuck them in their pocket

Discovering their meaning somewhere down the road

 

Yet the desert know none of these traditions

She only feels the winds of change breathe through her valleys

Shifting the sand into a pattern of tan woven brush strokes

As they make a valiant attempt to hold onto some deeper meaning of place

 

The winds of change breathe through our lives, yielding no mercy for the living

Until we eventually learn to yield to its fickle ways

Casting aside our familiar gaze, to embrace the future of unknown

Until one day, the wisdom within finds its own settling place for another season

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