Morning unfolds in silken gold,
A breath of promise, bright and bold.
Each dewdrop cradles worlds entire,
Then dissolves to mist, the sun’s desire.

A child’s laughter rings pure and clear,
But thins to quiet as night draws near.
The meadow shimmers, autumn-spun,
Then cools to grey as wonder’s done.

What seemed eternal in our hands
Falls swiftly to surrendered lands.
We vow, we forge, yet seasons fold
Our monuments in leaf and mold.

For loss itself unveils a grace,
A rarer beauty fills its place.
Each ending bares unopened ground,
Where secret seeds of dawn are found.

Author’s note: Poem inspired by Robert Frost’s “Nothing Gold Can Stay”
– considered by some to be one of the greatest poems ever written.