Burning bushes of copper tinsel

Rust‑ling in the wind

More alive than ever

 

Shades of crimson, amber

Ochres yellow and brown

A vivid carnival of colours

Dancing and delighting the mind

Distracting it

From clinging to what is ending

 

And yet,

As winter dawns,

It is hard to believe that

The demise of all that once thrived

Is just a mirage,

A mere hibernation, a resting,

A sloughing off of old skin cells

 

But as spring reappears

New cells emerge in abundance

Buds blossom with life

And the mind will wonder

Why it ever worried –

How it could ever have been duped