May be we’re like the season
I’ve never seen
spring meeting autumn,
like the day never sees the dawn
all we do in our alternate universes
is quietly burn.
Like summer and winter,
when one comes
you are bound to remember the other.
May be we really are like the seasons
fading away time and again.
Perhaps this is the sign of being human;
flawed like the cracks winter brings
to be cured only by the warm summer rays.
But we often forget
the first green of spring
and the first fall of leaves
as they turn golden.
May be just like the season
we will all be,
a little jealous of spring and summer,
autumn and winter
because they get through eternity
And may be just like the season
we keep repeating our lives in circles,
in hopes of something new in every corner.
Just like the seasons
we think spring
was late this time around
and winter was colder
and we eventually forget
how it was,
once upon a summer.
And like the seasons we let go,
when spring leaves for summer
and summer opens its doors for autumn
autumn bids goodbye for winter
and then for spring to arrive again.
Like the seasons,
we can’t really overcome
and perhaps that is why we embrace,
spring for its blossom,
summer for its color,
the leaves of autumn
and the winds of winter.
May be we are
just like the seasons.
I stumbled across the line, ‘I’ve never seen spring meeting autumn.’ And my first reaction was, ‘How can they ever meet, they’re seasons!’ Exactly, they are seasons. The subtle thought that there are seasons that never see each other inspired me to scribble down this piece.