Seasons

Seasons pass as we grow old . The fragile winter thaws into jubilant spring and summer sings it's swan song as it drops into decayed fall. We who were once so young and unparishable now find ourselves fallen into ruin and disrepair . Our new years resolutions continuously left in a wake of dead leaves, powdered snow, fresh mulch and hot beach sand . With each step we take towards our demise the more we appreciate tomorrow and cling to today . The sun tastes brighter , sky smells blue-er, and the earth looks softer. The touch of a song is stronger and the sound of a valley more symphonic. We watch leaves fall in the mirror, the gathering of cobwebs in our minds, our weathered faces. The rust in our hair, silver gray. We look out our windows into so green fields , and revel in our pasts reflected there. We pass on into the hereafter and the seasons grow old.