From my window
Trails are calling,
In the glorious autumn sun.
Through the trees
Where leaves are falling,
I hear voices: "Time to run".
Smoke is rising
In the distance,
Blessed by glorious autumn sun.
Hilly paths and
Woodland mist and
Voices calling: "Time to run".
Come the day,
The final trail,
Watch the glorious setting sun.
When time is up,
And senses fail me,
Silent whisper: "Time to run"