Autumn Is for Dying

 
 
 
Spring is for being born;
Autumn for dying.
Spring is for being born
(or maybe sometimes Winter —
something has to take you through
those long cold months of snow and ice).
Spring is for being born;
Autumn for dying
(when the leaves change colors
and fall and blow
into the frost and first fall snow).
Spring is for being born;
Autumn for dying.
(Why do you weep for me, sister,
long heartfelt sobs of dismay?
Why do you weep as I drift off to sleep
for many and many a day?
Today I shall die so tonight I may fly
— with the leaves I’ll be scattered away.)
Spring is for being born;
Autumn for dying.
(But I only die today that I may be reborn
tomorrow, when the warm kiss of Spring
touches the earth,
bringing promise of joyous rebirth
and months of summer sun,
when leaves turn green again.)
Spring is for being born;
Autumn for dying.
.
.
.
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