As the Summer lets her golden hair down,
Undresses and slips under the sheets
She closes her hazel eyes to slumber, smiling
Remembering the times still fresh in her memory
And draws her hands to her cheek in quiet prayer and rests.


Then Autumn awakens stretching his arms to yawn
Drinking in the crisp air that fills his lungs
(breathing, weaving)
He opens his brown sierra eyes to a new season.
Scratching his auburn hair, he sits up
Puts his father's old straw hat upon his head
And prepares himself for the labor ahead.


Hope begins to settle upon the pine needles
Upon the leaves of amber, scarlet and orange -
The start of a new beginning is born.


He walks among the pine cones;
Gently pulls off each tree's leaf
To leave the arms bare as time ages
The wind chills, pruning carefully
And until the season ends, Autumn shakes
Rakes the branches and sighs with cool breaths.
His eyes scan the horizon,
And he smiles with sincere admiration.


Winter then stands behind him
Placing his hand on his shoulder, Autumn turns
And sees Winter's blue eyes, nods
Knowing his time has come once again -
To hand over his work, to continue
The ongoing task to be done.
Another vineyard worker, another gardner
To tend to this earth created by the Master's hand.


With a look of sadness and relief,
Autumn willingly gives Winter his place
He retreats to his home.
He climbs into bed laying his head on the pillow
Closing his weary eyes, pulling the blankets closer
He bids the season farewell
Until the next time Summer beckons him to call
And He faithfully returns to the harvest.

02/08/2002

Author's Note: *REPOST* in honor of the upcoming season :)

Posted on 09/18/2004
Copyright © 2024 Melissa Arel