On Thanksgiving day it shone brightly
And the following day it disappeared;
Lately, the mornings had become cooler and so had the nights;
The squirrels seemed to get busier and hurried,
Now l think l understand:
For the sun shines no more on the island!
Yet l see it still in the yellow and brown leaves
Of the maple trees that are strewn on the ground.
Soft winds mourn and the poor robin grieves.
In a battle they will sure lose sooner than later,
Shades of red leaves cling tightly to the stems;
One by one they let go and to the ground they clutter.
The light rains are a wonder;
Such sweet music all day and into the night!
In my dreams, as the season changes,
When my mind is relieved of the body asleep,
How so joyously l dance to mbira and marimba music!
And for each new day l am grateful;
Grateful for the gift of life;
Grateful for my family and friends the world over...
Tafadzwa Matamba's Other Poems
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Comments about this poem (Changing Seasons. by Tafadzwa Matamba )
(March 26, 1874 – January 29, 1963)
Mewlana Jalaluddin Rumi
(1207 - 1273)
(12 July 1904 – 23 September 1973)
(26 April 1564 - 23 April 1616)
(31 October 1795 – 23 February 1821)
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(6 August 1809 – 6 October 1892)
(16 August 1920 – 9 March 1994)
(20 September 1902 – 7 March 1971)
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