We watch them leave home in autumn.
At the curtain waving good-bye.
We are the ones breathing a sigh.
As trees lose their leaves
in the brisk mountain air-
limbs become sullen, dark, and bare.
Then flowing like honey to the valley floor,
the season reappears and gives us more.
Crimson, copper and gold all about,
as if to say good-bye with a majestic shout.
Each day is fleeting like a leaf on the wind-
yet as one season passes, another begins.
Like wind through the forest or small grains of sand,
the boy we once knew has become a man.
Now our little girl, once covered in lace,
becomes a new mother and takes our place.
Cycle of living, season of song, embraces and whispers,
"Life goes on."