The Human Seasons

Lusty, the time of youth when silence is song,
song is silence– it’s inseparable
and consciousness is as bold as brass;
who cares to think then about autumn?
Its season alternating hot days and cool nights.

Teasingly, summer arrives clad in strawberry-red
development,
and twilight
faces death
by a thousand conversations;
who thinks then to prepare for winter?
Its moral raising its head late in the year.

To culminate, human seasons are as continuum
they carry on, maturing over the decades;
I adore the positioning of the atoms of time
they know
it’s against our nature to let things by
as water—
but we step aside when they reach the brimming edge.

 

 

Photo credits: Pinterest

Day five ~ Space-time

Poem inspired by the title of Keats poetic masterpiece,
“The Human Seasons.”

Posted for “Play It Again” @ Real Toads

Posted for the Writers’ Pantry @ Poets and Storytellers United