Who are You?

You are the season autumn. You are the day, When the trees, Brandish fiery colors, Of red, orange, and yellow. You are the hour, When the ground is littered with, An assortment of, Black, grey, and red squirrels, Indulging in tasty acorns, That have fallen from the oak trees, So that they can hibernate, Away from the cold winter breeze. You are the moment, When the sun sets, Into the horizon, So that the sun’s warm rays, Shine on the burning landscape, Of ever so wonderful trees, As they shed their flamboyant leaves. And you are the very second, When… Night and day are one in the same, As equals, As friends, So that they do not feud, Over when everyone and everything can either sleep or play, For every second, Every moment, And every hour, In a single day. But most of all, You can be anything, Whether it is autumn, winter, spring, and summer, Or fire, water, air, and earth, It does not matter, Because… For you to be anything, That you see as yourself, Deep in the future, You have to believe, In yourself. But do not fret, Like a chameleon, You can find your true colors, From within, For without change, The world will be a sphere of gray, Where everyone and everything, Continues to hide in the fray, Like a broken compass.