Season After Season Poem by Naveed Akram

Rustling leaves must be sounding like autumn,
Judging the ground we walk, and also
How we trudge along life after death
Has happened to the summer season of Joy.

Leave us when it is winter, as it is cold,
As the fright from temperature is solid,
And the life is barren and it is desolate -
Where trees are like the weird sort, the terrible sort.

It is now Spring, when life carries a deal
Of much greatness, of greater forgiveness.
There is light in the branches to liven our hearts
And fill us enough for summer; we had the sun again.