Torment of Seasons

I used to yearn for the sun like a tiny sprout trying to break free from the earth Shivering in the icy winds of grey winter Longing for the warming touch of spring And when spring finally arrives with all her fanfare and elation, her warm touch turns to a blowtorch of summer; scorching my tiny leaves and sucking all the moisture from my roots I now long for the cool breeze of autumn A respite from the rotting heat of summer Have yet to find that happy medium