She watched as the limbs thrashed wildly
against strong winds in pale light;
not the joyful dance of springs past,
but rather the fitful tossing of change resisted.
Winter is in the air,
dimly draped in fall’s cloak,
leaves raining down in a shower of colorful resignation.
She felt the turmoil of uncertainty vibrating deep within her chest,
lifting a prayer to the wind that she would find strength for the new season ahead.
She has stood at this precipice many times before,
always a survivor;
why would this time be any different?
Let the wind blow,
let change come.