In the Spring, there is growth
a quiet rustling under the earth
shaking free the last vestiges of dust
and breaking free.
The rains come
and quench the thirst of many
leaping vines, leaning trees, flowers splayed
rebirth begins her solemn song
a hope for each day’s beauty.
In time, the long days of summer fade
and the wind whistles her sad tune
it is time for change
and in their leaving, they leave behind
grace and beauty in their final steps
a showering dance of red and gold
flowing on the winds
and final rest.
Snow blows in across the
meadows, valleys, and mountain peaks
you can hear the sorrowful search of the wind
Where is beauty? Where does she lay her head?
and winter knows not – there is beauty also in
the absence of flowers, naked trees, the absence of sun.
There is beauty in the stillness of a winter’s day
in the absence of footsteps across the stretching sprawl of snow
in the silent plodding of snowflakes, hung on fir and pine
and their eventual release
the springing back of branch in loss
and in the way the sun shines across the fields and meadows
and its reflected glow.
There is definite beauty
in the changing seasons
the differing views
where beauty stretches forth
in all her glory.
© Sumyanna 2016