I came to realize her days are numbered
the scent of blossom begins to wane,
slowly drawn toward eventual harvest,
night skies begin to shift our eyes
upon constellate cooler streams
of light to suggest her time has come.
In evening breeze we listen clear
the melody of a cricket greeting
Nature’s compelling stronghold
upon this ever changing season.
Symbolic gestures while humanity
will stretch opportunity beyond
the natural course of time.
We do believe we can do this.
Is that a seething comedy of error
to compel, this generated heat
present inside a space of hours
will draw our lives toward fantasy.
An orb of energy plays brilliant
while all about Her gifts recede.
That, natural course of time evolves,
will always leave, swift sated skin.
* photo found on Pinterest