Seasons

 Seasons is a bit of prose I jotted down years ago in a spiral one afternoon. At this time, in preparation of a move from a place I have spent over three decades this piece came to mind this morning, opening the document Seasons now has more to say than the day written years ago. Much truth is in the saying all that is old is new again. Back to the packing!

Namaste'

Seasons

A season is more that just a part of the year.

It’s a time full of brilliance that you may see, sense, or hear.

It’s a time of chance in the miracle of life,

That’s seen a bit differently in everyone’s life.

The Winter can be crisp to the ears,

And leave your thoughts amazingly clear.

The first Winter snow is breathtaking to see,

A blanket of white that shows a miracle to believe.

The Spring is a season your sense of smell can partake,

Through the trees, or the flowers, or the smell of the lake.

The sense of touch can readily be felt,

In the touch of a Marigold, or the feel of a rabbits pelt.

The Summer is a real wonder to unfold,

The true miracle of life to be told.

Nature tends to it’s wild plants and great trees.

To remind us mortals on earth of the need to be free.

The Fall is our calling to learn to relax,

When all the earth’s creatures need time to relapse.

Into a cocoon where they can begin to prepare,

To lay dormant and await to start a new year.

For all the seasons, as each one unfolds,

Is a sight like no other, and always breathtaking to behold.

So as you pass from one year to the next,

Take time to indulge in life’s natural text.

For whether it’s a drop of snow, or a brilliant Marigold,

It is to be known, that more than we have foretold,

That only seasons are truly from the point of creation old.. 

copyright@lsmyers