TRANSITIONS

September sneaks upon us
like a shadow
climate change pushes
July's cold this far
farewell to home and Babylon

it is now only September
but July, too was an end
hope rises

there shall be renewal
and grass in green lushes
will grow again
embracing barren grounds
sealing the now-visibly angry cracks

and cleavages
and rifts
and departures

but for now
we must now set upon new paths
and new journeys

when the rain clouds gather
who are we to wrestle with the gods of plenty
and goddesses of restlessness

we have
in heated moments
of passionate divergence
imposed upon ourselves new missions
for new seasons

nothing is permanent
nothing, they say
nothing lasts forever

but hope
what of hope?

© September 2018