Tuesday, November 12, 1996


This is my soul's favorite time of year
 spring belongs to my heart; summer to the blissful memories of youth;
and fall belongs to the indulgence of my senses.
No, this cold dark season is my favorite
 for even when the sudden chill and fallen leaves create bleak images of death,
I find hope.
I rest in the assurance of my faith.
I revel in the knowledge of the season yet to come
 when my soul sings with Nature's newest children
What has been has been before
 and will be again
All things pass and become new
Every heartache, tear, and private agony will find its resurrection - its rebirth
  of unspeakable glory
For without the harsh winters of our lives
Spring would never be so welcome.
So let the cold winds blow; let the green turn to grey; and instill the lesson once more upon us
that there is so much more yet to come.

1 comment:

  1. you blog is like fresh air in the morning, beautiful and relaxing atmosphere.

    keep sharing,

    welcome sharing your talent with us today...

    1 to 3 random poems, or write one for our theme:
    week 44 theme: painting whispers.