Turning

[Morreion]

The tall grass and fading blooms are whispering
whispering in secret words
The turning is coming
The turning’s here
Time now for us to give up
our children to the chilling air
and offer brightening fruit to ravenous beaks
Now is the time to let go
of heavy hoards of old gold
and sink down into our earthy bed once more.

The wild geese and painted ducks are chanting
chanting in strident voice
The turning is coming
The turning’s here
Time now to leave behind
our blustery breeding grounds
for thicker skinned and coated ones to reclaim
Now is the time to guide
the newly fledged to the warm
in the living arrow of their first southern flight.

The grey rabbits and brown mice are harried
harried by the warning song
The turning is coming
The turning’s here
Time now before the hour grows
too late to store fat beneath our sleek fur
and cache gathered snacks in neatly shaped heaps
Now is the time to dance
to the musical beat of the heart
one last time till we curl up in underground havens.
The turning is coming
The turning’s here.

-Elethea