Day 17: seasonal

a poem a day in the month of may

Friends,

I love today’s word, seasonal, and I am looking forward to your poems!

Seasonal

The mantel and tops of bookshelves

change every season,

changing to match the mood

outside our doors and windows.

The fake lamb’s ear is replaced

with pumpkins and candles,

and then those are exchanged

for glittery lights and greens.

Everything moves because

Mother Earth teaches us how.

Everything is a dance because 

she shows us how to move.

In Autumn, I watch death

and I am in awe

of its tender beauty.

In Winter, I shiver

and remember what it means

to go inward and wait.

In Spring, I come alive

with the world around me,

finally waking up

from a long sleep.

And in Summer,

I burn and sweat,

I dig in the garden

and mix up peach salsas

that could make me cry.

We are never without,

because the world teaches

us what it means 

to be with.

We are always changing,

exchanging, learning,

dying, blooming,

sheltering, becoming.

We are the seasons, too.