A Forest In The Year

Lifetimes old sentries stand solemn, naked.
Frozen is the burden upon the boughs of pines,
Creeping no more are the tangles of vines.

  Witness the cleansing that is,

Northern gusts shimmer the ghostly stillness.
The whisper of flakes falling through the night,
A land soon virgin under a blanket of white.

  Winter.

Buds basking in the sun’s warmth, swelling.
Nectars calling and sweet crowd the air,
While marches of tendrils claim that once bare.

  Breathe in the bouquet of,

Blossoms bursting vibrant, limbs supporting a pageant true.
Life awakens stirring, buzzing, singing a beckon to send,
A new birth will always come and then eventually end.

  Spring.

Long days and months to be few, fleeting.
A kaleidoscope of cheer dotting fields of green,
Never a canvas could reveal a beauty so serene.

  Let your ears see,

Patters of drops fall from one leaf to another.
The thirsty expanse desperate to be saved of heat,
All is soon satisfied from treetop to lowly peat.

  Summer.

Guardians and dominion alike begin to slow, shedding.
An earthy musk clings heavy from foot to crown,
While the glory of a season past starts to tumble down.

  Reflect upon the,

A canopy of crimsons and golds cling beneath gray skies.
A rustling begins while the woodlands bow to cycles of old,
Nothing can do, but burrow in and await the cold.

  Fall.

Settings are born, worthy of every master’s easel.
Splendor so moving our breath catches in awe,
Another year passes; Winter, Spring, Summer, and Fall.