Sing and dance before the last leaf falls

Energy flows in swirls and zig zags

Assuage your worries and soak in the golden hues

Silent is the moon pirouetting across our night sky

Oh! Where did half our year go?

Notice the liminal spaces before and after the cold

Seasons will blow our pages to turn and turn.

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When belief in your pen runs dry,
It leaves a lonely page staring back.
Nothing appears despite how hard you try,
Imparting a feeling you've lost your knack.

The sacred space once filled with zest,
Now dim, dusty and barely lit.
Cobb webs gather around the chest,
Once filled with treasures from grit.

These fields you once ran with grace,
Now overgrown and no path in sight.
The shrubs...

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