Whispers of Autumn's Fade

The amber light begins to fade,

As autumn’s final dance is laid—

A fluttering of gold and red,

Like pages turning, softly spread.

The leaves, now tired, lose their hold,

Falling softly, shy and bold,

Each one a story, briefly told,

In swirls of warmth and air grew cold.

The breeze, it stirs with whispers of old,

Of seasons past and tales retold,

It brushes cheeks and ruffles hair,

And carries autumn’s fragrant air.

The earth, now quiet, holds her breath,

As daylight wanes and dusk begins—

A gentle chill wraps around the trees,

And whispers stir the trembling leaves.

The days grow shorter, soft with grace,

A fleeting warmth we try to chase—

But winter’s touch is drawing near,

A frost that hums with hope and fear.

The last of harvest lies in wait,

As twilight creeps through Heaven’s Gate,

The stars, now clearer, start to shine,

And yes

We stand upon this thin, fine line,

Between the dusk and morning’s shine—

The world, so still, so full of dreams,

Between the warm sun’s fading gleam,

A

How strange, the way the seasons turn,

How quickly autumn’s colors burn,

And yet, we hold them close and tight—

For in their fading, there's a light.

A light that whispers, soft and kind,

That life is fleeting but defined

In every leaf that falls, in each

Quiet

So let us stand beneath the sky,

With open hearts, and not asking why,

For in the fading of this glow,

New winds of change begin to blow.

And though the frost may bite our skin,

The warmth of autumn’s song will spin

A melody that lingers, still—

To be

Whispers of Autumn's Fade captures that bittersweet space between autumn and the coming of winter—how we feel both the warmth slipping away and the coolness of change drawing near.