Wednesday, October 13, 2010

Phoenix Song of Seasons

The Song of four seasons
Played from time imemmorial,
The story of life and birth
Of youth and death and rebirth

Those tender green leaves and grass
sprouting up in an earth so fresh
feasting on the first spring rains
Offspring from the white winter egg

How fast they grow , how fast they grow
into the splendour of summer youth
The aura of strength, the brightness of sun,
the fragrance of flowers, the music of birds.

Alas such beauty can never last
Such is the spell that nature casts
From the egg, the phoenix born,
There comes a time for its fire to burn

Down comes the Fall, the color of fire
Burning down trees in nature's ire
Blazing flames consumes the green
Soon Yellows and red are only seen

The fire dies down, the ashes remain
burnt phoneix feather,Charred and brown,
dead leaves let go from trees so bare
buried in the earth's coffin of snow.

But the phoneix song of seasons,
It will be played again
From the white winter egg
Life will sprout again.

Such is the tale of nature
Such is the circle of life
The phoenix of poetic dreams
Rising from ashes into a whole new life

1 comment:

  1. A beautiful analogy. So well crafted... and profound, in the levels that can be understood from this assay of not just nature, but beyond as well! :)