Alternate:Words

As the colors wash from the trees, touched by autumn light, originally uploaded by Thorsten Becker.

As the colors wash from the trees, touched by autumn light
As the blackbirds sing their final serenades in the late afternoon hours
As red squirrels hurry through crumbling leafs to find their hidden stacks
Of acorns ripe and all sorts of nuts given by resting souls on forest benches
As crickets chirp one last time in withering grass which sways and whispers in fall breeze
As the wind dances above gurgling brooks and winding streams
That carry boat like foliage, fiery red and leathery brown, to distant shores
As the air is laden with the smells of mushrooms gathered upon forest floor,
With the scents of damp fungus on weathered stumps
My heart calls out, my lips repeat without a sound
“Thank you for the little things, for moments like this, more precious than gold”

© Thorsten Becker