The golden days of summer, spring's new life, symphony.
The sparkling flakes of winter, dance, thru my memory.
But when the leaves start turning, a nip creeps in the air,
the falling leaves remind me, How God takes, our sinful rags,
and gives us, each, a pure white robe, to wear.
The hues so bright, the frost at night, the crops have all come in,
A storm or two reminds me, the trials He helped, me win.
This season of seeming death, things falling to the ground,
Are paralleled in life, when Jesus we have found.
For, we too, must die to things of the flesh, must leave ourselves behind,
allow Him to create, in us, a new heart, a pure, and wholesome mind.
For bare and naked we too will stand, as He prunes, and adds new soil.
He cuts away our sinful, traits, so the blessed fruits, they will, no longer, spoil.
Then winter comes and roots are formed, for death is but, an illusion, after all.
And, the renewal of our spring, all starts in the fall.
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Love and peace, B&R
Fabulous, your a gem, TY
;)Ch'erie
Love Tinka
Oh Rock, this is absolutely glorious poetry!
It reads like a beautiful melody, and bespeaks of the majesty, of our personal seasons of spiritual growth!
OUTSTANDING, my precious Brother.
Lovya MORE! RHO
Blessings and Light
Joselyn