September Dawn

The weakening September sunlight
secretly and silently stalked the dawn.
The dark desired to linger forever
in the hollow heart and meek mind.
A colder, polar dew saturates the lawn.
But in the fragile morning light,
there is a harvest of hope to find.
To fill the heart and strengthen the mind.
To the nagging agonies the hope is blind.
The autumn sun will be losing warmth fast.
Like memories growing cold from an ancient past.
There is wisdom in the falling leaves.
They fall with grace because they believe
they will return.  
To adapt to the cycle of life we must learn.