A transformation of winds,
A turning of tides.
The gong of cymbals
Bidding bittersweet goodbyes.

Seasons expanding
Into more than before.
Each quarterly place 
Encasing hospitable lore.

Yet, with fresh birthed comfort
Lies a death to old.
A fluctuation of spirit
Meeting movement in bold.
 
Where comfort was warm,
There also lied contentment.
A path well worn 
Grows flowers only limited.

With newness comes release,
And novelty, expectation.
The fondness for life
Which in past was forsaken.

So, steps flow outward
Destinations unknown.
Following footprints well laid
By One called Cornerstone.

Hearts shall realign
As souls find their home.
Welcoming every change,
Knowing their only Hope.

And one fact remains
Whatever the migration.
The Foundation stands fast 
With absolutely no objection.