The air crisp, the days short,

and I am waking up for the winter ahead.

This new season has crept in both quietly and with determination.

I recognize it well,

although circumstances would defer

to say that life could not ever look the same

Comforted with silence

I hear of better days to come.

I had almost forgotten how to sit quietly.

There was work to be done, conversations to be had, music to be played.

But this silence,

this forgotten gift,

this absence of things that would otherwise distract me from my search,

startles me once again.

I am searching for him.

Or rather, I am aware that he is searching for me.

Maybe this time

I will come closer.

Maybe this time my determination will not be dismantled by some other less fulfilling search.

Maybe I have been on the right path all along.

Leaves falling, wind blowing

Season changing

I am me, yet never the same

and he, the constant,

the one who leads me to love.