Autumn Child

October’s sleepy breeze chills my being, skin to bone—
The calcium, like ancient oak, begins to crack and groan.
Ashes in the evening—dark brown against the sky—
Crash down upon my shoulders, blown by Autumn’s sigh.

Fire fills the mountains, all orange, yellow, and red—
A fire that burns nothing down, that leaves nobody dead
With a light that brings the darkness a little closer every day
And a flame that says the silence of the world is on its way.

A silence that resembles death but mimics more our sleep.
It creeps along the edges and with Winter makes its leap.
Halfway to the snowfall, the trees release cold flares
While echoes of the Summer fly like soot into the air.

Autumn is the season of life, despite how it appears—
It’s a long, last burst of passion as Winter’s sleeping nears.
Cold winds cannot cool our blood before the sleep arrives—
The steaming veins contrast the cold and make us feel alive.

No wonder she’s so playful, but sleeps through half the day.
Like a child on a playground who has all night to play,
She runs around all afternoon then falls down to her knees.
She’s the quiet Autumn fire burning through the trees.

Daughter of the Harvest! Oh, beautiful Autumn Child!
Your passion can be dangerous if left burning without style.
Like a lost and lonely genius, you need some direction’s hand,
So focus your inferno onto this walled-off Winterman.

Thaw my walls defensive, from hard ice to water sweet.
I’ll bathe you in my river and bask in all your heat.
Flowing like a fountain, life spill down into my veins—
When I hold you in my arms, my love, I feel the fertile rain.

And when your fire burns out and leaves you feeling winded
I’ll let the frigid walls refreeze and keep your heart defended.
You can sleep away the Spring and awaken in the summer,
Just make sure your life’s restored within the Winter’s slumber.

Summer’s endless wave of heat always sears my fragile skin,
And Spring’s promise of potential is wearing paper thin.
I need Autumn’s hallowed ashes to fill my heart with love—
Colored leaves and blinding snow will both fall from above.

So stay with me forever, as the same seasons come and go,
Through blossoms, bees, the burning trees, and silent snow.
Let your fire burn eternal—bright, and cool, and wild.
Together, we’ll live in love—Winterman and Autumn Child.