Now the days grow shorter,
now the light turns dim.
Time to stop--to say goodbye.
Time to stop--to wonder why
life has gone so swiftly by,
and things have been as they have been.
Fiercer blow the winds,
darker loom the trees.
Time to pause--to look at things,
hold in mind these vanishings
that rise in air, burnt offerings,
to perish, swift as memories.
Earth turns harder, colder,
frost gnaws at the air.
Time to think--to think and know
how little we can ever know,
the life-long question why things go
changed to the final question: where?
Copyright 2010-2012 Paul Petrie