Looking towards the heavens
With uneducated eyes
Brings me imaginings
Beyond this Earthly realm.
Who can call the time
Of elemental passing?
Who can set the clock
To chime a morning warning?
The sky is crystal clear
Theres not a single cloud,
and the air is thick with sap
Where the sunflowers were stood.
Some excited birds chitter
and flitter through the air
following the tractor's trail
As the lonely stumps are felled.
Only yesterday I watched
their spent flowery heads
drooped towards the soil...
To all intents quite dead
Turning down and brown.
It is all a timely message
warning of the approaching end
of Autumn after Summer
after Spring and back
again to mysterious Winter.
Who can forecast the weather
No one has, ever.
Nafarious and enigmatic
like life, like birth,
like a lover's kiss,
and the indefactigable
peculation of Death

© Griffonner 2022