The seasons do not upon the earth’s heart, a burden be
Instead, festoons its gladness on every tree.
If leaves and buds in their fair branches be,
There it sends magpies, pigeons and chickadees.
If autumn winds to leaves their epiphany call,
Their energy, transformative love to fertile soil.
In warm hearted grace, Earth says to the seasons,
“Bring me your baskets of Spring flowers again,
Let your bouquets bloom Summer’s silver rain.“
“Autumn let your baskets of plenty sing
Carols, ’till Winter’s thaw gives way to rain,
And, Summer days stem roses in vases of terrain.”