A Split in the Road

A crack in the road,

A scratch in the glass,

Isn’t the end of the world. 

For every “imperfection,”

Beauty is made. 

In that crack in the road-

Flowers and trees can grow. 

In that scratch in the glass,

There is a ray of light, that slowly will pass,

As the sun begins to set. 

When two new roads have met, 

You can decide which one to take. 

There’s nothing beauty cannot make.

Deep into the heart of winter,

When everything appears dead,

The icicles hanging from the trees-

Gleam in the evening sunlight. 

The snow trickles down from the sky,

As the wind exhales, almost a sigh. 

Late into the hot summer nights,

The moon shines so bright, 

Casting its gentle glow onto the land. 

Meanwhile, in the winter, 

It reflects off of the false sand. 

When the land begins to dance with icy winds,

Fall paints the landscape in reds and oranges, like a fire. 

The complete opposite of spring, 

Whose green thumb grows flowers of many colors.