When the Air Turns Kind
The air turns kind when autumn calls,
Whispering through the trees and halls.
The days grow slow, the nights grow deep, And dreams awake where shadows sleep.
Leaves fall soft, like grace, like song,
Reminding hearts they still belong.
We trade the storms for candlelight, For laughter low and stars at night.
There’s peace in hands grown tired but true,
In mornings kissed with silver dew.
A warmth returns; not fierce, but mild, The world exhales, the soul turns wild.
And in that hush where hearts can mend,
We find beginnings dressed as ends.
So gather close, love is near and refined
The world feels whole when the air turns kind
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