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When Seasons Speak

When seasons speak
    of warm and blue and bright 
They call to me
           with everything in sight  

To worry not
           the problems of the day
To just enjoy
           the love of nature’s way

When seasons speak
         of war and hate and pain
They call to mind
            of what there is to gain

Another win
                 another plot of land
The toll of death 
             another bloodied hand

I wonder how
  just how one comes to choose
Bullets to flowers  
                with so much to lose

Copyright © Mike Gentile | Year Posted 2024

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Date: 5/1/2024 4:43:00 PM

I became immersed in your poem, Mike--its gentleness and physical structure made for a pleasant read. I especially liked the profundity and wisdom in your last four lines...why would one choose bullets over flowers! Well done! Wishing you a pleasant evening, Sara
Date: 5/1/2024 12:53:00 PM

Your poem eloquently contrasts the beauty of nature's seasons with the harsh realities of human conflict and violence. The opening lines evoke a sense of tranquility and serenity, as the speaker is called by the warmth and brightness of nature's embrace. It invites us to immerse ourselves in the simple joys of existence, free from the burdens of daily worries.
Date: 5/1/2024 12:01:00 PM

Hello Mike , i wonder the same thing. Happy Wednesday. xxxx-oooo./Darlene/.
Date: 5/1/2024 12:11:00 AM

WOW Mike…..l love this poem and the last stanza holds so much power!! Debx
Date: 4/30/2024 7:54:00 PM

How does one choose bullets to flowers…the devil is busy taking shots. Will we have better days?
Date: 4/30/2024 6:13:00 PM

Beautiful, succinct. Love the last stanza.

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Book: Shattered Sighs