A Farewell to Warmth

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The Watcher in the Wood

Upon a face of bark and time,
A silent, sacred, pantomime.
The left, a world of silver frost,
A paradise of beauty, lost
To chilling breath and fragile lace,
Where winter dreams upon her face.

But on the right, a story told,
In burning reds and sunlit gold.
A final rose, a defiant plea,
For warmth and green eternity.
The autumn leaves, a gentle fire,
Fulfilling nature's soft desire.

A slow breath drawn, a stirring deep,
Awakening from ageless sleep.
Two lids ascend, a silent grace,
To gaze upon this timeless space.
One eye, the blue of frozen streams,
The other, warm with hazel dreams.

So watch the seasons ebb and flow,
The gentle frost, the golden glow.
For in this face, a truth is spun,
That all will end, and all's begun.
A constant dance of death and birth,
The quiet poem of the Earth.