It’s the summer season’s nice final warmth,
it’s the fall’s first chill: they meet.
Mud within the grass, mud within the air,
Mud within the grave – and all over the place!
Ah, late rose eaten to the center:
Ah, fowl, whose southward yearnings begin:
The one might fall, the opposite fly.
Why might not I? Why might not I?
It’s the autumn equinox:
technically, the primary day of fall…
Right this moment the seasons change:
on the bidding of celestial spheres:
summer season makes her exit
and autumn her debut…
Oh, there will be heat days but,
combined in with wind and chill,
however there’s merely no denying
the seasons are a-changin’…
No holding again of summer season’s finish
no stalling autumn’s entrance
as they flirt and tease one another
’til summer season fades and fall is all ablaze…
What may you ask of me, Lord,
as September takes her depart
within the altering of the seasons
of my story, of my life?
What should I depart behind
as my favourite season ends
and what may I anticipate
as autumn attracts me in…
Because the seasons change round me, Lord,
and deep inside my soul,
be the middle, be the nonetheless level,
in my ever-changing life…