I sit in the autumn air,
A cold breeze runs through my hair.
The land is clothed in colors of fire,
As life takes its last breathe before it expires.
Winters spirit is drawing close,
Life will now be the guest of this new forbidding host.
Winter will take its place on the throne,
For a time the earth it will own.
So comes the season of death,
Life will wither under its icy breath.
I look at the radiant beauty all around,
Which will soon fall to the ground.
Then be covered in a blanket of white,
Where it will be entombed for winters long night.
That these beautiful, radiant, colors of fire, 
Should never fade, is my heart’s desire.
Then winter whispers there is a purpose to all that falls,
Which will be made plain when glorious spring calls.
Underneath winters cold forbidding shroud,
The earth is being blessed and endowed.
The leaves of fire that in autumn fall,
Enrich the soil with life’s spark when spring calls.
This dying fire gives new seeds life,
It secretly enriches them through winter’s night.
God works in mysterious ways,
Placing a spark for new birth in the grave.
Knowing there is no true death,
Just the passing of a season in life’s great quest.
All things that die and pass away,
Provide the nutrients for a new spring day.
They make us a little wiser,
They raise our understanding of truth a little higher.
So life’s seasons pass and pass again,
This cycle of death and life brings about the refinement of men.
Every time part of us dies,
The falling fire will feed a new flower that will rise.
The radiant colors are a symbol of grace,
That in death God never hides his face.
The earth is wise, thus never ashamed,
That its colors fall in new births name.
When the flowers of spring bloom radiant and bright.
Remember the power of growth came from deaths long night.   

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