Natural Wonders
Autumn—she arrives on time each year
To fulfill her duties as a seasonal mother:
She is a comforting guardian, bearing blankets of leaves
To catch her children when they stumble and fall,
Much like a mother provides her child
With words charged with wisdom and love
On which he can fall back when the going gets tough.
She borrows from her friend, the Color Spectrum,
To furnish her children with breathtaking sceneries
That lift up their spirits and make them believe
They are in control of who they become,
How they appear,
What they achieve.
She has a voice that she uses only
To assure her children everything will work out:
It is heard through the crisp crunches of the Autumnal leaves—
Orange, brown, and fiery red—
That crumble underneath her children's feet
As they walk in intense thought
And demanding hesitance.
It is heard as she sings a pacifying lullaby
Through the leafy tree branches that sway to the beat
Of her soothing melody.
Winter—she comes bearing gifts
Packaged in buckets that are cracked open wide
By anticipation felt by all of her children
To release snowflakes, each uncommon and lone.
She is a mother, a sister of Autumn,
Who, no matter the hardships the season—
Or life—may bring,
Delivers happiness in the forms of snow
And hot cocoa.
She is so perfectly pure:
She shines within the facets of the ice crystals she yields;
Her perfect reflection dwells within the crevices
Of the icicles hanging from the rooftops
Of the homes scattered throughout the city
On which she looks down.
Both Winter and Autumn are motherly figures
Who help their children deal with the one constant of life—
Change—
By giving them practice with seasonal transitions.
Autumn teaches us that with the blustery winds,
Which have no mercy and restrain no wrath,
Comes alluring sceneries
Empowered by the fallen leaves
Driven from the trees by the force of the wind.
Winter teaches us that with the unrelenting cold
And the stubborn bouts of snow
Comes rewarding sceneries
That are nothing less than breathtaking.
autumn and winter are
Magical.
To fulfill her duties as a seasonal mother:
She is a comforting guardian, bearing blankets of leaves
To catch her children when they stumble and fall,
Much like a mother provides her child
With words charged with wisdom and love
On which he can fall back when the going gets tough.
She borrows from her friend, the Color Spectrum,
To furnish her children with breathtaking sceneries
That lift up their spirits and make them believe
They are in control of who they become,
How they appear,
What they achieve.
She has a voice that she uses only
To assure her children everything will work out:
It is heard through the crisp crunches of the Autumnal leaves—
Orange, brown, and fiery red—
That crumble underneath her children's feet
As they walk in intense thought
And demanding hesitance.
It is heard as she sings a pacifying lullaby
Through the leafy tree branches that sway to the beat
Of her soothing melody.
Winter—she comes bearing gifts
Packaged in buckets that are cracked open wide
By anticipation felt by all of her children
To release snowflakes, each uncommon and lone.
She is a mother, a sister of Autumn,
Who, no matter the hardships the season—
Or life—may bring,
Delivers happiness in the forms of snow
And hot cocoa.
She is so perfectly pure:
She shines within the facets of the ice crystals she yields;
Her perfect reflection dwells within the crevices
Of the icicles hanging from the rooftops
Of the homes scattered throughout the city
On which she looks down.
Both Winter and Autumn are motherly figures
Who help their children deal with the one constant of life—
Change—
By giving them practice with seasonal transitions.
Autumn teaches us that with the blustery winds,
Which have no mercy and restrain no wrath,
Comes alluring sceneries
Empowered by the fallen leaves
Driven from the trees by the force of the wind.
Winter teaches us that with the unrelenting cold
And the stubborn bouts of snow
Comes rewarding sceneries
That are nothing less than breathtaking.
autumn and winter are
Magical.