Blossom In Autumn's Arms

What do the small flowers of autumn's arms do in October, in the grass, in bushes? Roses and peonies, who had bloomed to show off their true selves with leaves of green and petals of red. From spring to autumn, the clouds etch closer to the darker skies, blanketing our scenery with the cold warmth. Twigs sprawled in all directions, reaching for our sun dulled by those clouds. The landscape where nothing and everything changes, where shadows rise and fall, hover and veil, where the sun rises and sets became Uriel's view.

It's not just the flowers. All kinds of flora and fauna endure this harsh time in the same way. How do we dare to compare? How so very anxious and fretful we are not, believing that all things are waiting silently like rocks against ruthless nature. How ignorant. How flimsily plastic would our patience be, not being able to stay still to fill the void of every moment within something? Uriel can only hope that in the face of autumn, he learns to b