Swift belief the unearth of bliss

Rooted seeds ready for birth. 

Leaves fall in the fall and giving and thanks are felt within all

The turning of colors only rented for hours

Awaiting the cold brisk of clear tangible flowers

Wait for another’s life 

Another year

Older and older we grow

Stronger on the brow

Creased skin and worn ways

Take aways some days

I go on 

Day by day

Awaiting for the bloom of spring.