The acquisition trail

Winter sings a mournful song
to the scrunch of every leaf
trodden on by humankind
along the acquisition trail.

The trail is long and winding
from inception unto closure
and the "got to have" a drive
inbred behind the eyes
until the cold, cold, air of winter
permeates the bones
with a sadness reminiscent
of a lover's empty arms.

And life like a circus tent
awaits the make of love
to attract the curious
because inside the deep within
lies the amazing magic
of perfected balancing.

People love and money love
but the throw, catch, hold, of both
the exulted state
of balanced harmony
still yet to come of age.

Winter sings a mournful song
and the scrunch, scrunch, scrunch,
goes on and on and on!