“ Every Season ” ~ has a reason ~

 

Every season

In nature’s bent,

Finds purpose

For renewal,

That celebrates

Each wont advent

Not as infinity’s rival

But a cycle of revival…

 

Yet we creatures

Suffer brevity

Of a single stay,

A hoped-for reach

Though time decreed

Life be held brief,

And so ephemeral

Deemed beg amend

Wouldst be in vain,

To imitate seasons

That never fully fade,

Thus likely  reason

Life then returns again!

 

Advertisements

“ The Hand ” ~ that feeds ~

As I observe

The hand

That feeds,

Wants serve

The life I live

With verve,

Fashioned so

As fate did give,

To find contrive

Thru every curve

Meant stay alive,

Be worth invest

In destined strides,

Hence to survive

The waning signs

We visualize,

Protuberant veins

Neath thinning skin

Covers aging within,

Telling of life ephemeral

The while bemoaning

Mind means decline,

This hand will feed me still!