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Life reflected through seasons
The glistening gray of the morning
Golden rays of sunshine slowly rise
The white snow, defeated by deary rain
Dew drops in silence, off green blades of grass.
Like the roar of a lion, does the red heat come
Growth after the pink flowers finally fall
Tremendous and terrible, the tall tumbling brook
Like the cry of a lamb, does the life go.
Harvest your fruit, fake or not
The leaves of red, yellow and orange
They fall like the years, turning to brown
A gentle breeze down a road, not trod recently.
Eyes turn back to a gray sky
The chill, slowly seeping, sundering life
White the world goes, the cold feeling of defeat
Sleeping are hopeful heartbeats waiting…
The water, the sky, the ground stay in place
But white death and golden life always fight
A somber battle, balanced, beautiful.
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Life is like the seasons, there's a period of renewal, then growth, followed by the harvest of fruit and finally death. I tried to reflect this in the poem.