Elegy

The leaves, once vibrant, don their hues of red,

A mournful symphony, summer's song now dead.

A chill wind whispers secrets through the trees,

A dirge for warmth, a sigh upon the breeze.

The sun, once bold, hangs low in the western sky,

A fading ember, casting shadows high.

The golden light that bathed the world in grace,

Now paints the clouds with a mournful, fading trace.

The birdsong, joyous, now a fading trill,

A final chorus on a wind-swept hill.

They gather close, preparing for the flight,

To lands unknown, bathed in a warmer light.

The flowers droop, their petals kissed by frost,

A fading beauty, beauty dearly lost.

No longer vibrant, once so full of bloom,

They bow their heads, awaiting winter's gloom.

Oh, gentle light, must you retreat so fast?

Must summer's warmth relinquish to the blast?

We mourn your passing, hold you in our hearts,

The fading beauty that forever departs.

But though the sun descends, and shadows creep,

A promise lingers, slumber, not eternal sleep.

For in the heart of winter, cold and stark,

A tiny spark awaits the coming dark.

A hidden bulb, a seed beneath the snow,

Dreams of the light, a warmth it yet will know.

And when the spring returns, with gentle hand,

It'll wake the world, a promise in the land.

So let us grieve, with tears that softly fall,

For summer's passing, the beauty lost to all.

But hold within our hearts a flicker bright,

The promise of rebirth, and future's coming light.