With Fresh Wind Blown

By John Herlihy

Dawn breaks night’s stillness

With faint glimmers of light.

As the night takes its leave,

The day’s arrival feels right.

For a few delicate minutes,

The day romances the night.

For a few selected moments,

We take note of the twilight.

But what of passing seasons,

Do they never stop and think,

Their arrival a kind of treason,

Upon another season’s brink.

Spring rains bring flower blooms,

The frozen earth warms, opens.

All the while as summer looms,

Bees roam as summer tokens.

Fall begins to feel winter’s gain,

Leaves touched by winter chill.

They fall upon the dusty plain,

Where they lie perfectly still.

Winter shrouds earth in snow,

Content that it will never die.

Melting snow will never know,

As spring moves in on the sly.

There between earth and sky,

The horizon never feels alone.

The trees always reaching high,

With fresh wind gently blown.

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(c) John Herlihy January 2019