Seasons, they come and go
Just as quickly as
They have arrived
And, that’s what we forget
When we have moved
Into the next season
Trying to grasp
What we know
From the last
But, it cannot come with us
It must remain
In the past
That built us
For today

This day
This season
Whether good or bad
Is producing something
For the next
And, so it
Will continue
On and on

So, rather than
Holding onto
I pray your
Choices are made
By love
That sees every season
As having purpose
Under heaven

That’s the beauty
Of seasons
They come and go
Where there was bad,
good will come.
Where there was good,
it is still not the end.

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