The Certain Passing Of Time

In springtime, we awoke with the flowers And the birds, and were as fresh as blossoms. In bright, warm summer days of gold and green, We felt the constant flow of Creation Through our veins. We felt transfigured by Time. In nights woven from wonder, we were one With the moonlight and the children dreaming. On those wild summer nights, we were carefree. But now the autumn of life has arrived It offers a more solemn beauty in Flashes ofrusted reds, browns and ochres. These falling leaves symbolise our sorrows. Soon we will enter a wintry abyss Of silence; from which we'll never return.