As the cool crisp air floats into season, I wallow in the silence.

The silence that seeps in slowly as we each grow older.

A breeze that slowly runs across each and every wrinkle,

taking its time, getting to know each and every inch of the day’s trials that have been laid across our paths.

The chill across my skin makes each bend of the elbow or knee stiff like an un-oiled wheel.

But even with the feel of an old body lifting me out of bed in the morning,

I yearn to watch each brightly colored leaf fall from each tree.

A rebirth of nature and a rebirth of the world.

A second chance, over and over, as this planet bows with a humbleness hoping that

we will nurture and care for it once again.

And a second chance, over and over, for a rebirth of our own spirits.

This chill throughout my body reminds me that I am alive.

So at the end of each day, as the temperature drops, I watch the sun go down with a

humble heart.

I sit late into the night, appreciating the quiet and speaking my grateful heart into the universe.

Fall, fall, take me to your leader.

Let me bow at their feet with thankfulness for the gift to see through and past my body’s pain, and this life’s

burdens,

straight to the beauty in the chill bumps.