Something I wrote a few years back.
The Time of Long Shadows
(Reflections from the Autumn Woods)
It is a glorious autumn afternoon,
The beech and aspen leaves shower to the forest floor,
In the autumn breeze, like gold small gems from heaven,
The sky is azure blue; the treetops sway in the wind,
Sunlight splashes everything with its dazzling rays.
The archer sits and waits for the phantom of the forest,
Each hunter has one,
It is said when an old hunter dies, there is some forest
Creature that lies down and passes with them,
A nice thought, if true.
The afternoon shadows from the trees begin to draw,
As twilight comes near.
As nature sets the stage to exit in a blaze of splendor and glory,
As it does every time this time of year,
The bowhunter sits and waits and reflects, how quickly the time has gone,
He remembers past hunts, old friends.
Those loved in life and now in a better place.
And the hope of things to come,
It is appropriate in this season for these thoughts.
As the shadows from the trees draw larger, magic time falls…
Twilight drawers nearer,
It is a time when the creatures of the day settle before nightfall,
And the creatures of the night begin to stir.
There is no slaying the mighty stag this day,
The sun is on the horizon,
A time to reflect, a time of hope, the promise of tomorrow.
It is the time of Long Shadows.
S.M. 2005
