Seasons (a poem)

Fresh Spring toward Summer ripens soon
Its greens will now begin to brown
The browning yields the seeds of Fall
And then a final sigh and rest

In Winter’s dormance gather we
Our thoughts and lessons for the year
And add our own tree rings of age
In hope that wisdom will result

And with such wisdom greet the Spring
Of yet another year to come
Perforce to yield a better crop
Of thoughts and deeds to sow and reap

And thus to earn our just reward
Of satisfaction and of rest
To contemplate the work we’ve done
Our spirit then can be released

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