Five Seasons

#1: Autumn

As a child I watched the leaves turn and fall
There was a beauty in this and a sadness that was so hard to define
So elusive, this sadness, that I thought perhaps I made it up
Though the beauty was impossible to deny
A chilled wind might rustle through the branches of the trees
As though to remind us
But it has been so many years now that it is hard to remember of what

#2: Winter

The stillness of the dark hour is broken
As the sound of a dozen horses pounding
Under the cracking lash rides in on the wind
Snapping at loose clothesline and
Forcing itself through branches, threatening
To topple the trees.
For now, the passing back into silence implies
That the roots have held their own in this battle,
The first, I am sure, of many more to come tonight.
Already, I can hear in the distance
The sound
Of horses screaming under the whip of their master
To start their ride anew.

This is the winter that you ask me unconsciously to return to
That I ask you to leave though I know that you cannot
Is it so hard to split the seasons, I wonder
And why must life always interfere with desires when it should exist
Only to fuel them

I cannot explain my confusion when I left you
Too often I don't even know what I am trying to say
Until much later
Or when I am afraid to say what I mean until it is much too late

In my mind there is a warm summer breeze
I feel I can maintain that
Outside my window a dusting of snow flurries the air
Moments later dancing on my skin
Like tiny cool invitations home
As home lies in the quiet moment with a memory of a breeze

#3: Spring

If life starts anew, even as just a metaphor,
Then why must it wait for spring?
Somehow it doesn't seem fair that first it must endure
Under frost and ice and rock-hard earth
Victim of a brittle chill and battered by wind
Before sleet gives way to rain and finally
Clouds to sunshine
So that a blossom can rise.
There must be a way, I tell myself, to blossom without the pain.
I've seen it, I am sure, in greenhouses and summer homes.
So why does it seem so impossible
To apply that to our own lives--
As though we simply cannot remain protected and cared for--
And still we endure and are born again
Each time more beautiful
But knowing the cycle may never end.

#4: Summer

My first urge
Always my first urge
Is to protect
To envelop in warmth and comfort as long as I can
But summer always ends
Sheltered birds fly to new shelters
And I find myself wanting
For myself wanting
Only someone to walk through the seasons with me

#5: Autumn Revisited

Autumn always felt beautiful to me
Years after running from the prelude to winter
This thought has stuck in my mind
And after all this time in the sun without change
Stepping back into the brisk air I find
Somehow the change brought by the seasons
Retained its familiarity
I discover now again
Autumn still just as beautiful
As I remember

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