Seasons
boyd miller
Anyone can love a June morning
when the warm sun rushes to your arms
to kiss your cheek as you embrace
all that is the prize of waiting
for spring to end it's cruel malingering.
But who will love the winter storms?
when bitter cold and lashing rains
stab the heart with melancholy grays
that stretch before in endless sameness
until one stops remembering summers joys.
It takes a special soul to love them both
holding each above the labeling
that forces words not meant for such
prizing each for gifts the other can not share
holding each until the passing serves it's time
marking the newness of the changing season
with smiles of old friends greeting
and sadness of old friends passing
knowing that with every seasons change
lessons learned and practiced bring new meaning
to every ray of sun, and every drop of rain.