I felt the chill creeping around the corners yesterday
Finally the herald of change is here!
Wake up, it says
Feel the cold and smell of dead leaves
starting the race towards the poetry
of rebellion against stagnancy
my million-colored scarves lie in wait
summer is my love, but September is my season
a refinement of all rules of existence
No longer do we have the sanctuary of knowledge.
The time of harvest is sacred
every shift in my life has happened here
joy struggling to escape the binding of veils
I allow to wrap around spirit and self
(supposed to be a summer child)
but I waited for the faint whispers of fall
so that I could sleep through winter
wrapped in blankets and prayer-songs.
I think maybe I will always be trapped between seasons.