POEM: Autumn

The trees bleed red on the cliff side. This beautiful sight of death is only temporary. Thus, the trees will be born again, as so do we. Father bear gets ready to hide, for soon the sky will cry cold crystals. We slowly die to prepare for our glorious rebirth, to start anew. This is a time of harvest and celebration! This is a time for thanks and giving! The Sun goes to sleep early, bringing darkness over the land. But the Autumn Moon still shines to light up the path. A gentle cold breeze passes by, whispering in out ears. The stars twinkle, dancing in the night sky. The God and Goddess peer down into our world, creating death, blowing the vibrant leaves off the trees. Death can be a beautiful sight. Never feel down for Death only means life.