Ph: Love: Seasons Of The Heart
by Brian Johnston
A peaceful realm, time itself almost frozen
We play mind games indoors,
Our joy more in fellowship than fresh air
Rubbing one moment against another
The friction creating warmth in our hearts.
Yesterday's fireplace ashes, wires to roast marshmallows,
Always speak of new possibilities
Where dancing flames offer infinite delight,
Like falling snow, every flicker as unique
As the human heart itself.
A Christmas smile that rewards even strangers
Whose unsolicited gifts of love also come calling
Catch our hungry hearts unaware,
Though expectations are low, we are shaken awake
To ponder 'fight for more' or 'flight from! '
Always a surprise, Spring pops into our lives
Like a first Robin, its presence fragile,
As if Winter's grip might last forever
And snowflakes ultimately win the war.
So frozen still is hope.
Then suddenly there's an 80 Degree day,
Snow still piled on the North side
Of fences, homes, and trees,
Rose buds start to grow, seeds get the message,
And verdant change fills the earth.
Young ladies' legs blossom skirts of many colors
Conservative clothing now so passé,
As temperatures rise overall.
Soon cooler heads have all but vanished,
Romance's pollen fills the air.
Bare feet in summer sand can be too hot to handle,
Arms and legs too need protection from light,
Even the human heart sometimes
Needs protection from exposure
Tempting as it is to bare all.
Feeding the soul can be like feeding the body
Some foods are just too rich,
What tastes good doesn’t always serve
Our inner longings at all
And wisdom doesn’t grow on trees anymore.
Adam and Eve too struggled with this issue,
Even in God’s presence somehow wanted more
Being in competition with self
A risky undertaking just because
Your ego is always with you.
Fall's fanciful arrival on the scene
Brings splashes of color to the stage
As if Nature were holding her breath
Turning red, yellow, orange, and brown
But never quite reaching blue.
Colored leaves glut the bowels of children's parks
And are raked into tempting piles
That invite young hearts to make the jump,
Drift up against rows of tombstones as well
Death temporarily out of sight.
We button our jackets against coming cold
Split wood that helps heat our homes
And resurrects memories of summer's ease,
Freshly canned food lined up like soldiers,
Affirms life against winter's discontent.