Fall & Spring

The woods in the fall stands in silent toil,
Reminiscing the bliss of lovely spring,
Not moaning, nor groaning, but as a foil
For the bright blue sky, unstained and unending.

Does, thriving on quiet strength of belief
That to pass this with patience is a payment
And from which it's useless to seek relief,
It gently waits for the flowering moment?

But my naive heart toils to evade the fall,
And yet, doubles its duration and depth
By damning it as a dejecting call
And not seeing silent sufferance’s worth;

Rise of this muse gilded the dark sky of gloom.
Upon this golden foil, gloom turned into bloom!