The Seasons

It's Springtime.

I'm young, beautiful, full of life, vibrant.
I wed. I make plans for the future.
The baby comes. A special bundle of joy.
The baby and I play together. My schedule is
kept. My days are busy, filled with things I must do.
I managed well. I learned to balance my heavy load.
Yet, the load seemed so light. It was in the Spring.

My youthful energies carried me through.
Some would say, "Don't you ever tire, with so much at hand?"
I simply smiled. I'm young. I never tire.

Summer arrives.

Ever so quickly. The flowers of life in full bloom.
Still the stamina, the vibrance and beauty
abound me.
The baby. No longer the little bundle. He is
growing into a young man.
With the passing of my son's birthdays,
I did not take into account, that I too, was growing older.
At times, I would sit and ponder,
"My how time flies. Just yesterday, it seems, he was but
a babe."
In the summer of my life, I did not prepare for the winter
that lay ahead. I did not store up the knowledgable wisdom.
The wisdom I would need when the cold winter commenced.

The Fall.

Ah! As subtle as it may seem.
I noticed changes in the fall of my life.
My bones became creaky simlilar to the sound
dry leaves make under foot .
My energy is exhausted.
What happend to the vibrance? The beauty?
The once bright hue in my hair, has now turned
to a dreaded grey.
Where did my baby go?
My vision, not as sharp as before.
My bones ache. They seem to be as dry as the
bark, on the old maple tree.

The unexpected Winter.

How cold! How Cruel!
The Winter storm slipped in, I was not prepared.
In the shadow of my mind, I still believed it was Spring.
At least, still Summer.
The irrevocable season, however, showed me no compassion.
The cold wind of Winter encapsulated me.

My gait, quick and springy in my earlier Season's,
Now slower. I am more determined to make the
correct step. The safest step. To save me the embarrassment
of a sudden fall. Of which I am no stranger.

My energy. I have lost that
energetic vigor of times past.

My Stature. Just last summer, straight as an arrow.
Now, I notice the bent frame, welding against the hard
winter winds.

Skin of a princess in the Spring and Summer months, has finally submitted.
"I submit, I submit'' it cries. I submit to that rival. Gravity.
The medal I received for my efforts, is faded,
dull and wrinkled.

And low! The fogs of Winter somehow, distorted my full length mirror.
That cannot be my image, starring back at me.

What happened to my beauty?
Where is the young, vibrant girl who occupied space
in this body? What seems to be, such a short while ago?
Who is this standing in the young girls stead? ,
Her resilient energy. Her plans. Her fortitude. Where are they now?
While she slept, is it possible a discrepant season slipped by
without her waking?

And then, I am drawn back into the time in which I now stand. The present.
The plans.were left undone. The pain of life, suddenly destroyed
the blue printed plans Everything fell asunder.
Expectancy, turmoil,and tragedy, striped me of my plans. Throwing my future to
the whirling winds.
Plans laid out for my future are now
harbored in the folds of my mind. I am reminded of my good intentions.
My plans unfinished, are left hanging in the balance.

As I give much thought to the Season's in my life,
I realize, I have, yet one season that I must battle.
The next season will be a great challenge.
My desire is to face the Season with dignity

My next, and final Season, is that of the Harvest.
Is it possible that I have waited to long?
Have I time to sow? Or time to reap?. I must labor.
I must quickly prepare, with determination.
My will is strong. With dimmed eyes, and
a bent frame, preparation for the Harvest is detrimental.
I grieve, as time turns backward, in memories, of course.
I grieve, because, in the younger seasons of my life,
I did not prepare for the Harvest now at hand.

It is my error. At whom else would I cast the blame?
I now must do that, which I did not do.
In the Spring, and Summer when life was plentiful.
I sowed my seeds of disobedience. I am now reaping, that which I sowed.
There is no time left for procrastination. Procrastinate, asI did in Season's past.

One last look in the mirror. One last memory travels through the
cobwebs in my mind. One last reminder. I have only one hope,
only one Salvation. I will cast all my cares at His feet. My God,
though I did not prepare. Still cares for me. He will lead me through,
to the end of my Harvest.
He alone is my hope, my strength and my Salvation.


Say not ye, There are yet four months, and then cometh harvest?
Behold, I say unto you, Lift up your eyes, and look in the fields:
for they are white already to harvest. John 4:35