Seasons

A poem about life's changing seasons

Seasons

Freshly fallen leaves of trees, hopes we long for beneath our feet. The fading sight of dreams we seek. We cling to the beauty of each blushing tree, just knowing this sight won’t last but a night. It gives way to frozen forests of grey, to disheartened reflections of hopes now lost.

The frozen rivers are but windows to our dreams. Each snowfall is but a flicker of the beauty we once knew. The frost we feel, holds time so still. We wait for the sun to peak thru, once again. Each ray that penetrates our sorrow filled souls, awakens but a glimpse of our hibernating hopes. The melting snow brings us to our lost memories of spring’s scent and dormant dreams.

With each spring shower every dead leaf is forgotten, for the blooming flowers shine brighter than every fallen pedal. This season holds the hope of forests filled green and fields of colored blossoms. 

This longing of life renewed is simply the sweet summer days of our hearts. The rivers flow with hues of green, and each skin feels the warmth of the summer sun. These days we wish would last, for in them every hope is blooming, every dream is within grasp. We know it won’t last any more than in the past, but we cling to every last fallen pedal, each glimpse of green grass. 

These seasons always changing, every soul always seeking. These simple seasons of our future, the seasons of our past.

Author's Note

Any comments are extremely welcomed. I would love to know how my writing is received, both good and bad