The Four Seasons

By John Herlihy

I thank the four seasons for their annual gift,

In arriving on time my moody heart to uplift.

What would we do without a change of seasons,

That enrich our lives for their own unique reasons.

Spring falls from the heavens in nourishing rains,

Awakening dormant grasses far across the plains.

The hibernating flowers now lift their weary heads;

Feathered spring sparrows fly high as newly-weds.

Summer basks in the glow of the sun’s furnace;

Melted glaciers now run free as rivers in earnest.

The butterflies search flowers for golden nectar;

The fireflies light the way as a nocturnal specter.

Autumn trees bow with the weight of their load;

The multi-colored leaves scattered on the road.

By autumn’s end, forlorn trees naked and bare,

The barren landscape sends a chill as we stare.

Winter arrives from the North with its arctic blast,

Steering us into the wind as we stand at the mast.

Earth’s carpet covered in a rich blanket of snow,

Inspiring a peace we would not otherwise know.

Through all the changes a birdhouse hangs still;

Weathers batter and blow the little house at will.

Rain runs from the eaves, the snow rests heavy;

Faithful birds still come to feed and make merry.

I thank the four seasons for their annual gift,

But in the depths of my heart, I do carefully sift.

Seeking the truth left behind by the four seasons,

To discover the true meaning of my own seasons.