Autumn has come
A stillness and sleep
Settles over the groung
The trees drop their leaves
The wind grows sharp and cold.
I hear a voice on the wind
Calling over the horizon
"Come away with me!"
A restlessness to follow
Grows within my heart
Until, one day, I spread my winds
And hurtle myself toward the horizon
With beating wings and pumping heart
The harsh air in my face
And the sharpness of cold
I fly toward the future
Leaving home-- returning home
Seeking my destiny.
Sarah Monroe
