As the leaves are stripped
By the power of the wind,
So is my strength.
The once green grass
Now stark and desolate,
So is my health.
The deep red and oranges
Harken the coming of winter,
So do the deep body aches.
The beauty of these changes
The depth of colors,
So speak to the soul.
The crispness felt in the air
The scent of rain carried by the breeze,
So our understanding.
The trees, bushes and grasses
Into a deep slumber succumb,
So our conditions hide.
Life is preparing
For the darkness of winter,
So we endure a plethora of symptoms.
There is a quiet beauty
As the colors and leaves give way,
So is our determination.
Mom Is Sick -- For Parents & Kids 
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