The Seasons

Spring came singing through the cherry trees

And wove her coloured tapestries on earth,

I sang with her repeating harmonies

Learned through centuries of death and birth.

Then drowsy summer indolent and free

Knowing that her final hour was close

Rushed her pace coaxing bloom to seed

But left alone the proud and stalwart rose.

Now autumn bloomed magnificent in leaves

Preparing for her time of nude repose,

In winter's frozen arms she threw herself

To sleep and dream of the beauty God bestows.

Last came the days of the falling leaf.

One felt that death would scatter everything

Yet in my soul I knew apart from grief,

In winter's breast is hid the bud of spring.