**In autumn’s hush, decay cradles what breathes anew!** 🍂

Beneath autumn’s golden sigh,
Leaves curl into earth’s warm sigh—
A quiet dance, slow and unseen,
Where time weaves what life may clean.

Each brittle page, soft-formed decay,
Feeds roots the shadows love to sway.
In crumbling arms, the soil is rich,
From air to ground, all breathes, all bends.

No hurry, no hand to claim
The earth’s own tale—just rain, and time’s quiet name.
A cradle born of air and soil,
Where seeds may wake to greet the soil.