Seasons Cycle Ever Onward

Sweet summer sun,
you cause the flowers to bloom;
the grass to green, the trees
to flaunt their splendid form.

Then autumn comes; the air
takes a temperate turn. The vines
go brown; leaves wear brighter hues.
The harvest is in.

O’ joyful reaping,
the journey has been long.
At last the labor’s done. Winter
is upon us.

Even as the days grow short,
we turn our face from darkness,
The seasons cycle ever on;
we celebrate this time of rest.

Winter is a temporary thing.
The pond will thaw, the ground
will warm.  Spring is waiting
in the wings.

Every bud that ever bloomed
will bloom again.

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