I consider how blossom trees, do
a stark impressive autumn strip, to
shamelessly stand naked through
winters frost and snow; stir to
feel of springs softer magic touch;
this warm enchantment bids their
exposed winter coats farewell, to
let soft fluffy pink flowers blossom.
Blossoms whiten, snow petals fall,
create illusion of a winter scene.
As suns warmth and rain encourage
growth, soft light green leaves open,
fruit appears, grows, ripens slowly
during summers long sunny hours, to
autumns shorter days, when fruit is ripe.
Fruit now ready, harvested, stored,
nourishment for our winter need.
Trees leaves turn rustic shades, give
our souls some warmth, reminds us
to get ready for the start of winter cold.
Leaves fall, tree returns to nakedness.
Trees yearly cycle is now complete.
Like all natures changes they happen
quietly, no praise, no warm applause.
I now reflect, how as seasons change,
the moments come alive, to give life’s
lesson, of true knowledge for our world.
How yesterday has gone to be no more.
How our tomorrows will never reach us.
How our present moment contains all time,
and within it, all we wish for, hope for,
prepare for, complete, realize, achieve.
09-06-2009
Bob Blackwell
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/thoughts-that-come/
