A Changing of Seasons

Love spoke things into existence

It created with Its words

woven the masses and forms that surround us -

so strategically placed -

yet seem so effortlessly set


The changing of the seasons is at hand

and the signs are in the leaves as they gently turn from their green

to yellow

to orange

to red

to brown

and drop to the ground

abandoning the tree they were attached to their whole life

they wither and crumble and disintegrate

and blow tumultuously with the wind

until they are no more.

The tree cries out for spring again

and newly formed buds perpetuate it's virgin branches

birthed from the life of a tree planted years ago.

Seasons change

The tree is wise in understanding that spring will not last

the fall will come again

and even colder, winter

and it feels the change long before it shows its colors.


Yet it always looks forward to spring.

An Artist

An artist is rarely logical. They usually feel before they respond. All thoughts are processed introspectively and can be changeable like the brush stroke of a new color on a canvas. They often hold onto items sentimentally and often mismatch. Not because they do not want to match – but because their passions are diverse and they can see the connections no one else can. Are they spacey? Do they not pay attention? Perhaps it is just the opposite. They pay too much attention and do not know what to do with all of the information that has arrived.