Seasons

A winter sun holds hope that warms

While spring is yet to come.

And summer smiles before the storms

Of which fall threatens some.
 

‘Tis hard to bring back love and life,

And wonder in pure forms;

Yet cold is not forever strife:

A winter sun holds hope that warms.
 

Oft’ times we lose our way around;

We cannot find our home.

We’re birds who cannot leave the ground

While spring is yet to come.
 

In whom are we to place our trust

When evil takes good’s forms?

When unfair sweeps away the just

And summer smiles before the storms?
 

We must above the wicked rise,

Above their luring hum.

Succumb not to their lonely lies

Of which fall threatens some.

Author Notes:

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