Life is like the seasons,
A timeline of change,
Constant experience for the soul,
That sometimes cause it to derange.
Spring brings forth new life,
Everything is fresh and green,
Blindly we're ignorant and happy,
The truth is yet unseen.
Summer comes with reality,
Chaos in life like storms,
Opening our eyes to truth,
As the path ahead of us forms.
Fall brings forth more change,
Hair changing like the leaves,
Everything starts slowing down,
Youth stolen by time's thieves.
Winter has come with final change,
Everything is stiff and cold,
An unfeeling and uncaring grave awaits,
As death finally takes hold.
I am not usually impressed by
I am not usually impressed by use of the ballad form, but this one is really fine, mighty fine, and very moving. Iy reminds me of my very young years, before I understood seasonal repetition, and I feared that slide of summer through autumn and into winter was, in some way, too final.
J-Called