Lessons From the Season

When December drops its load, as the season starts its march in spite, I find myself enraptured by the ice of time. That was the time for loving, as our hearts in bliss were plump and ripe, and life was passed through the lens of innocent smiles. The time for strapping on boots, as the frost released our minds from strife, and it was nothing but fuel for pure rejoicing. That dazzling powder puffs dreams, of a place where time stopped in spirit, and signs of sentimental giving floated free. Today I’m here and flying on the wings of the past and soak up joy as before, but is there more than just this rush? After all, pleasure is here but for a spell and the bell chimes loud for reality to break loose in our worn bones. True, we often ignore plans which have been spread out for us with care, but lessons are treasured as years of childhood prove. And though we’re figments in dust, death itself is trampled in its grave, so pack your heart with this peace; embrace time’s wisdom.