The yellow leaves
dance on the trees before
twisting free,
falling to the earth and
skittering across frost-edged
grass.
That elusive moment
between seasons when
change snaps
crisply in the air
Winter waits in the
north, preparing her
icy fingers to
transform the
barren landscape as
snowflakes dance
elusively above my
outstretched tongue.
Spring sighs and
moans on warm winds
and raindrops dance
across the desert
forming streams and
rivers that bring life
to weary winter.
Heat dances in the
distance as sun
bakes earth and brings
forth flowers from the
deep. Summer snaps and
sparks and bursts with
green.
I dance through each
season of change.
Heavy feet sometimes
stumble and try to lead;
other times, they move
lightly in perfect
accord when I let
the Master of the dance
guide my steps.
I care not if I seem
graceful or awkward,
hesitant or inspired—because
I know one thing.
I never dance alone.
