In summer we bid goodbye to those who bloomed with
us,
In fall we were greeted by a surprising warmth supposedly
known as the Indian summer,
In winter we were comforted by changing colors
emanating from those around us,
And in spring we wailed as we walked back out into
the cold again,
As we simultaneously watched the year evanesce.
Our seasons were altered this year:
None proved a foreseeable outcome
And they were all somehow manipulated to become
their predecessor,
In symbiotic tune with earth’s providential but
cyclical nature
But perhaps this is the beauty that seasons propel
for any life we know
That ineffable excitement and misery we reserve
for the future
And the knowledge we always acquire after enduring
the seasons that pass
The reality of what I learned throughout the multitude
of seasons I have lived,
Is that all of my expectations were radically
unmet
And the best part about it
Was that it led me to you.
