Early morning

Early morning: the silent silhouettes,

the solid shadow of misty trees

and the promise of light.

The frosted battle of breath

and the vaguest tint of warmth

colouring in the air.

This is the herald of Autumn’s chill

the fanfare announcing Winter

a prophecy for scurrying squirrels

and the sleepy dormancy

of hibernation.

The shallow clothing of Summer

is archived again

and wardrobes brim with bulk,

armour for the battle to keep warm.

Beauty remains, though different in form;

the red-gold gay regality that adorned

vibrant trees

reduced to carpeting mulch

a blanket for oak and ash and beechy feet.

Whispered webs of glistening silk

stretch between twig and branch

their stealth betrayed

until day hides them again.

To everything there is a season.

Every season has its fashion -

new apparel of praise

reflecting the creativity

of a God who cares.