When you are young,
they will treat you with the softness of spring.
They will guide you through the winter winds and
over snowy hills, admiring the brilliance of your
midday innocence; pulling daisies from the earth
just to place them in your hair. And they will
whisper to each other of how beautiful you are.
When you grow older,
they will treat you with the indifferences of autumn.
They will urge you from the complacency of your own
fleeting fulfillments, and they will watch your
brilliance fade with the swiftness of the sky. You
will shed your fragile childhood with the colors of
the trees, and you will learn to face