The Bloom Is Fading

The bloom is fading, soft and frail, A whisper caught on autumn's veil. The petals drift like dreams once near, A quiet song dissolving here. Yet in their loss, a sweetness grows, Nectar flowing where time here slows. It lingers, warm upon the breeze, A gift for bees, for skies, for trees. Though beauty wanes, it does not die, But spreads its light through earth and sky. The river hums, the air is sweet, And in its course, the end's complete. For all must fade, but still remain, A breath, a spark, a golden chain.