THE FOUR SEASONS OF LIFE

THE FOUR SEASONS OF LIFE

It starts off full and broad
crisp memories
each their own, completing it.
It shall slope gently side to side
to the sweet melody
of happiness and greatness.

Oh but slowly
each happiness filled memory fades.
No longer should it be crisp and great
but dainty and crumbled.
One by one all shall vanish
be lost, until zero is left to rely on.

Now it is bare.
A naked nothing
cold in the sharp, dead air.
It shall be unremembered
and shall sit solely in the dedend despair.

And just when it departs
a peak of sun brings it back to life.
Slowly, very slowly it buds
restoring color to the lifeless surroundings.
It shall be crisp again.

It has pulled through.
The start of budding
is now in actual existence.
There is now a fresh scent if completeness to it
and the once lost happiness and greatness
has returned .
It shall now remain full and broad.