Poem: The Turning Year

Spring whispers first, in tender green,
A hush of life where none has been.
Soft rains awaken roots below,
And every bud begins to glow.

Then Summer strides with golden flame,
The fields are ripe, the skies proclaim—
Long days that linger, sweet and slow,
Till twilight hums with firefly glow.

Autumn follows, calm and wise,
With rust and amber in her eyes.
She teaches trees the art of loss,
And paints the earth in fleeting gloss.

Then Winter comes with breath of glass,
To still the stream, to cloak the grass.
The world draws in, the nights grow deep—
The heart prepares for quiet sleep.

Yet even then, beneath the snow,
The pulse of Spring begins to grow.
So turns the year, both old and new—
Each ending births a different hue.

Thank-you for reading.

Remember there are many paths back to God.

Follow your own path,

Brenda Marie