Email Poem

Your IP Address: 3.132.215.146
Your Email Address:
To Email Address:
Subject
Personal Note:
Poem Title:
Poem
Whether passing a ball through the air or a peg on ice,
the execution thereof is much like the game of life.
It is also akin to the passings and transitioning of the                                                                                                  
natural seasons of Spring, Summer, Fall, and Winter.
Renewing poise, Coolers, Reprieving comfort, Heaters.

Whether first or last, feast or famish, I AM SPRING.
I spring cheerfully from the cold, 'giving right of way'                                                                                              
to SUMMER, singing solemn melodies to wash away the                                                                                
harsh and bitter time just before my arrival. I AM SPRING,                                                                                
maker of budding trees, protruding leaves and flowers,                                                                                    
getting them ready for pollinating bees.  I AM SPRING, producing                                                                           
colors fresh from the freeze. Beauty and a sense of heaven are               
made of these.

I am no leader, but I AM SPRING, and I think that I can humbly speak for all seasons. All the seasons treasure bridges that are solid and strong to crossover, and batons to pass on. Between seasons, I must say, is a most delicate time. I must decide to be secure by that with which I am familiar, or to be embraced by tomorrow as a team member in nature.                                             

"How much time do I have in between?", said THE SUMMER Season to God.  She further asked, "How many days to call my own before I pass on until my next term?" Summer continued, "Being careful and sensitive that I might not prolong, is often my great dilemma. If I should make haste, are the bridges safe?  Carefully passing from hand to hand between the passing and transitioning is where the confusion usually begins. Moreover, my aching heart is never soothed; my task never feels so smooth until THE FALL SEASON has a firm grip of her mission.  Perfect execution during this crucial time must be my addiction".

"Otherwise, Season three will be denied its awesomeness, its calm, it's separation from Summer. THE FALL has a right, a duty, to speak a time of sweet peace before the storm, to create a calming zone just before the outpour of rain, ice, and snow, the long season of the cold of WINTER'S 
bite. For His own good reasons, me thinks that God has appointed 'an official' to govern the transitional times between the seasons".

070522PSCtest, The Time Between the Seasons, Kim Rodrigues
CAPTCHA Preview
Type the characters you see in the picture
Required