Poetry

Seasons of Creation

I am the winter

my cold flame is small

but my heart grows warmer

as the days go by

 

Cold and alone

I feel so small

but as time goes on

my art will be seen

 

I am the spring

The buds of creation

bloom around me

I begin to grow

 

The leaves pop out

as day and night

dance in a tango,

never to end

 

I am the summer

my art is in full bloom

shown to the world

my colors of life

 

The existence of pleasure

fills my hallowed halls

as I begin to create

even more inspiring creations

 

I am the fall

as nature winds down

the world slows and cools

ready to sleep once more

 

Cover me

Oh, Earth Mother

for I am chilled

and need your blanket

 

As the cycle ends

and begins anew

I am reminded of

the Seasons of Creation

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2 thoughts on “Seasons of Creation

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