-- For Everything a Time, a Season --

John Herlihy

For everything, there is a time,

Hours, days, months, and years,

All time made up of moments,

Some of struggle, some of tears.

For everything, there is a season,

A time to be young and to be old.

A time for lives lived under heaven,

A time for the life story to be told.

Every season has its time,

A time to be born, a time to die.

Every season reaches its prime,

A time to laugh, a time to cry.

For every spring, a time reborn,

When the dead come back to life.

Sprigs, sprouts, buds newly born,

The earth as garden in blooms rife.

For every summer, a time warm,

By flame of immortal sun blessed.

Blue skies and afternoon storm,

The birdlings finally leave the nest.

For every autumn, chill winds blow,

The faces of leaves turn crimson.

Fall to earth, their wonder to bestow,

 Even though fall is the saddest season.

For every winter, a time of frosted lace,

Dressed in white, the grasses and trees.

A deathly pallor covers the earth’s face,

Rivers and streams locked in winter freeze.

For every person, there is a soul,

Prone to evil and prone to good.

The soul spirit unifies the whole,

Its impulses to follow as we should.

One thing that has no fixed season,

No selected moment there in time.

But instead a part of every season,

Drawn from another world sublime.

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Copyright © John Herlihy

Tuesday 9 November July 2021