The forests were smouldering 

In the early fall

Here and there 

A burst of colour

Flaming into life

Early casualties 

Of summer’s demise

The bush soon aflame

in firey conflagration 

The irony

Of a flaming death

Heralding the coming cold

Winter consuming 

Both heat and colour

In its cold cold grip

And yet in that image

Hope lives

burning into our hearts

That this will come again

As it always has

And will once more.

As we pray for peace 

After yet another war.