Time is forever, to a child.
They have no concept of finality
…of endings, and so it is
with mother nature.
There is no compromise in
her forward march.
If spring remained where it is
everything would stay in bud
seed would not begin to grow
roses, never bloom.
If summer with her unrelenting heat
were always on the boil
soon, everything would shrivel up
dry and, die.
If autumn didn’t ever shed
its shroud of kaleidoscopic leaves
what then would enrich the ground
from the mulch they bring.
Where would that endless bounty go
and what would become of the life
of trees which were never left to rest
nor sleep the sleep of the just.
If winter made the decision to stay
(especially here where we are)
everything would remain locked up tight
in deep perpetual freeze.
Nothing could stir to grow or flow.
We curse the heat and bugs of summer
hate the cold and ice
yet, endless seasons would bring
about a nightmare all of their own.
As for me,
I simply count my blessings
pleased to see each come
pleased to see them go.
*The leaves are starting to fall. I saw some on the grass this morning one, covered in raindrops from last nights rain, so beautiful but, was also reminded that Autumn is on its way and all too soon after it, comes the long (and dreaded) ice/snow and sub zero temps of winter and I hate the shorter daylight hours too.
Had to study this form and needed to understand it in easy language. I found this Tritina explanation pretty clear and followed it. Hope I did it properly.
So, this explains it all.
There had to be a keeper
someone who just does
Maybe he doesn’t even know why anymore
he just does what he does because
it’s what he always done and the one before him and the one before him and the one before him ad infinitum.
He opens the fabric and tinkers
a little tinker here
a little tinker there
and cogs change their momentum
speeding things up
slowing them down.
Cogs in chains
wheels within wheels
all working as one
circles, all the same.
I always wondered who governed
‘Something of time’
now I know it is he
who shifts and fine-tunes seasons
turning summer’s into autumn’s
winter’s into spring.
(I believe) There’s the first season of heady, crazy falling in love. The second season is growing together, adapting to sharing life. Third season, is the steady, blossoming love that is our comfort. Fourth season is the one that has weatherd all the storms and beats the many tests of time until, death do you part.