The Year
A day that dawns
will never come
without release to want it.
A night to begin
will live in sin
because the world feels a need.
An autumn to fall
a time of death
to celebrate with color.
A winter to shiver
through blankets and snow
of an ice life with fire.
A spring to let sprung
of life that starts
all over – once again.
A summer to swelter
to think of colder days
imagine the heat turns to snow.
All this happens between
the days and the nights
the dead leaves that fall to grow
and the fire and ice.
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I write because it's how I speak to the world.
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