Poem by Rhys Clement
The mystery of the Season Spring,
And why to it all things respond;
-Growth brings happiness and hope-
My wont for which to ponder on.
When sunshine taps the window panes,
It removes the shade from eyes,
And entices one from slumber,
Dispelling haunting woes and sighs.
So be it with the heavenly warmth,
When shared and thoughts incline,
That candle is to dear Old Sol,
As finite love to Love Divine.
So undefined yet understood
In part, by those who search doth make.
Time the imposter standeth still,
When timeless journey rebirth takes.
The lesson then of Seasons Four,
Culminates in Season Spring;
See in that in which one sees, a
Spring with an everlasting ring.
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