The Seasons

The Seasons

When all was born it felt preciously new

As spring we budded our days not few

A place of warmth from which we came

The air outside was not the same

We grew, blossomed into lives of summer 

Paths we took looked none like the other

Would purpose be lived amidst all we suffer

Our journey in time just might be clearer

Oh, autumn here you come this youth 

The beauty we see in all our pursuits

Yet all we see, transient, will not last

It slowly falls, it fades; we look to our past

Then winter steps into our warm space 

Cold winds blow, scatter snow on our face

I beg life to hold me in her futile embrace

Not far from now I'll know my place