Seasons

Spring, that shrinks the last vestige of decay,
Breathing new life after the dark season.
Heralds the joy of living: A spend day,
Among the chaotic rhyme and reason.

Have you heard the skylarks sing. The great song
Echoes the first carillons of the sky,
To sway the branches and the budding throng,
The sweeping bells that knell the snows goodbye.

So I entered the earth, this brave new world,
Amid the glorious resurrection.
The ecstasy of life, nature unfurled.
With its deep held secrets of complexion.

I have seen the glory of the summer sun,
Striding the heavens, monarch of the sea,
Celestial majesty, its light beams run,
To meet the waters in translucency.

For the sunlit rays shone in cognate with
The great orb, I sensed the chilling prophesy
The last season before the lasting pith
And core of vermilion, the darkly night.

Thus in my awakening, I became
Incarnate, becoming wise to the ways
Of the temperate winds, who would proclaim
The ending, and the start of other days.

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