I feel this time coming to an end

Or, rather, a transition

Where art once evoked such passion

As to become obsession

‘Tis now a fleeting remembrance

A solitary leaf

Turned from the blossoming fragrance of Spring

To the lush, vibrant green linen of Summer

And now curled to crackling brown parchment

Waiting only for the next gust of autumnal wind

To part from the tree of its birth

And drift slowly to its demise

But this view is too morbid

And we realize that the fallen leaf

Becomes the soil in which new trees will grow

And fresh foliage present itself

Thus I wait

Not fearfully

But expectantly

For what new passion

And purpose

Shall emerge

From the garden in which my thoughts and words and deeds and works

Have come to rest

As seeds to take root

And grow anew

Realized on the morrow

By Mike Turner

From United States

Website: http://www.MikeTurnerSongwriter.com

Twitter: SchoonerSkipper

Facebook URL: https://www.facebook.com/MikeTurnerSongwriter