The Seasons of Life

The Seasons of Life

Winter gasped and slowly, finger by finger, released its icy grip on the fertile earth
Song birds gave a tentative peep, an inspiration to bud and seed, to arise from their slumber
The sun rose high, duelling with the legions of winter, dispelling the darkness
It was in the spring that she was born, a child of love, in a season of hope
A new age had dawned, a new life engendered in a distant birthing room
Mother lay with her first child, clutching it to her breast and prayed

The days lengthened, life was lived to the fullest, the child grew
Time stayed its course, creeping forward, marching to the great beyond
A myriad of flowers smartly dressed in various hues, bobbed their heads in the sunshine
No longer a child, but a woman, in the full bloom of life, potential
Seeking her pot of gold on the heels of a ribbon of colour
Tempests raged, life was tested, moved forward by an unseen, loving hand

There was a subtle change in the air, the scent of something new
Crimson and gold leaves hung heavy as plump grapes in anticipation of the coming days
In the stillness of an early autumn night, the stars twinkled the message
The tattered pages of a wall calendar, fluttered in reply
A certain moment was drawing nigh, the hour was at hand
Out of the blaze that is summer, new life was forged
The child, soon to be called mother, gave birth to a beautiful son

The days grew shorter, a sigh of contentment wafted over the crisp air
All life was in deep meditation, remembering yesterday, longing for tomorrow
Mother Earth can be harsh, even cruel, but never forsakes her own
Relief would arise, riding on the divine spirit and give succour
From the mountains it came, in the blink of an eye it was made manifest
It fluttered from the heavens, bathing the earth in pristine whiteness

Heaps of snow lay fat like moss on the north side of a towering fir
All the earth enjoying a well earned siesta, dreaming of new life, the coming of spring
Nestled in a tiny bed she lay, a life in the balance, her soul at rest
The golden cord, paid out to a great length, a life lived to ripeness, giving life
An invisible hand reached down, in an act of mercy, love, and severed the cord.
It was in the winter she died, a child of love, in a season of gloom, to be born again.