04 Dec 2016 – Watching Autumn Fade

The sun heads south to seek a warmer clime.
I asked to go along, but she declined.
I watch from far-off, watch as she arrives,
and wait ’til she again seeks out these skies.

They say of haji’s, once they’ve come back home,
are not the souls they were before they roamed.
The sun herself, renewed, returns each Spring
with fire in her eyes, new songs to sing.

They said ‘Grow up, sit down, don’t make a sound.
A real man’s firmly fastened to the ground.’
Of every dream I had they made a jest,
claimed ‘God gives only gloom to Earth’s brief guests.’

And here I sit, still rooted to one spot.
A pilgrim in my youth – but now I’m not.
Is all that’s left of life the spaded dirt?
There must be yet some goal to give this worth.