Promises

There is comfort found in the cool breezes of Autumn
When leaves begin to turn and the world is painted
Orange and russet and yellow like a ripe pear
And the apple trees bearing their fruit to the fair, blue skies.
The nights grow longer as the days disappear
Into the dark purple of the year and the dying of our days.
We can find odd comfort in the process
As the cold winds bear down upon us
And draw us closer to one another;
There is a light born shivering in the darkness of the Wintertime
And this life will dawn anew with the daffodils we find
Springing forth through the hard crust of Winter
As sentinel of the new year to come.