My life is changing
like the four seasons,
though without any reason —
I find myself scared of it.
Change, it’s a horrifying but beautiful thing.
Like in the early mornings of spring,
the birds begin to sing,
but soon enough they leave,
taking their song with the warm breeze.
I wish for things to stay the same,
but I know everything is always evolving,
like the stars above.
I’ve always held my creative side dear to me.
Cherishing every spur of creativity,
However I still took this feeling for granted.
When the stress of the word planted–
Mother Earth holds us all in her arms,
engulfing us in a comfortable beauty.
She keeps us safe,
as we travel around the sun.
She’s gifted us the oceans and lakes,
the mountains and hills,
The fire dances with the trees,
With no stopping, it spreads.
A horrific sight, indeed.
In the wake of this inferno,
Comments
The only constant in life is change: I have to remind myself of that nearly every day. But sometimes -- sometimes! -- it is a great comfort. With sort of with the same meaning as, This too shall pass, I suppose (I'm full of cliches today). So when you say it is both horrifying and beautiful, I think that's exactly the way to put it. Likening your life changes to the ephemeral quality of the seasons (joy in the form of birdsong, joy taking its leave) is sage.
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