In What Comes After the Storm

Now the days grow short
And the sun sleeps
Resting
As I often wish I could
Preparing
For the coming freeze

The leaves begin to drop from their branches
Leaving behind
All that they have ever known
Twisting and drifting in their descent
Until at last they lay to rest upon the cool earth
At peace amongst their fallen kin

Soon
The water will turn to ice
And the ground will grow hard
Covered quickly in a blanket of white snow
The air crisp and filled with shimmering crystals

Sometimes
There is great peace to be found
In the transitions
In what comes after the storm.