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Seasons |
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Soon the flowers to open wide, Petals spread to the growing day, Rising tall by the riverside; Ice crystals float in slow ballet; Now the birds' awakening song, Growing bold as the day grows long. Sunlight striking the mirrored lake, Under the trees in dappled green, Making sparks in a lone swan's wake, Moving on wings with snowy sheen; Ending the day with skies of red, Reaching up high, stars overhead. A scent of spice in cooling air; Umber and scarlet line the leaves; The bright leer of a pumpkin's stare; Under moonlight the wheat's in sheaves; Mornings the ground covered with frost, Nights when the geese cry of warmth lost. Wind whips ice through the barren field; In the snow lines are traced by cold; Nature's harsh side is now revealed Through a new year that has grown old; Ending, though, may mean a new start-- Resting is spring in winter's heart. --1997 |