Regeneration

The morn' of November
A crisp chill lingering in the stillness
Can you feel the season of change?
A regeneration
Old leaves fall and the new ones will come
Yet it's all in its own time
Ordained by the Creator of all
One must be tossed and turned about
Eager to escape its stem, root of life
But ever more, must cling stronger still
Are we so adamant to hang on to what is dying?
Or do we desire a rebirth
A regeneration
Blossoms on the brink but hearts must mend
In this season of winter to come
Finding a new joy in the creator of all
The morn' of November and season of winter very soon shall pass
On the brink of the revival of spring
Can you feel the season of change?
A regeneration?