The morning wakes in golden haze,
A hush beneath the amber blaze.
Leaves whisper stories to the breeze,
That dances through the painted trees.
The sky, a quilt of softest blue,
Lets sunlight spill in honeyed hue.
Each branch adorned in firelight gowns,
Of crimson reds and toasted browns.
The air is crisp with gentle bite,
A kiss between the day and night.
And every step through woodland ways
Is cushioned by the year’s decay.
A squirrel darts, a crow takes flight,
The world aglow in calm delight.
Even the shadows stretch to stay—
To linger on this fall-filled day.
And in the hush of waning year,
There’s peace that only autumn hears.
A lullaby the season hums
Before the quiet winter comes.
Thank-you for reading.
Remember there are many paths back to God.
Follow your own path,
Brenda Marie
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