The seasons circled back again
To touch from start to end
I feel the summer creeping forth;
Its voice is in the wind.
The warmth is like a long lost book
I open once again
To stroke aside each dog-eared page
To see where this began:
Two years ago, two summers past
On morning such as this
The sun was climbing up the sky,
The grass was touched with mist.
I chased the dawn down past the lake
That imitated glass
The early-morning gentle air
Breathed wind, so soft and chaste.
We moved then like the moon and sun,
One far and one behind.
I followed shrinking shadows while
You basked in morning's shine.
A wistful turn would break that spell,
Your warmth was hard to miss
There in the daybreak's balmy air
So fresh, so new, so crisp.
And you- the sun- you rose and came
Like light across the ground
My breathless lips would part in awe,
Yet utter not a sound.
Sweet Sunshine thieved my breath away
And filled my marveling eyes
The once eternal nightingale
Had turned her back on night.
That was the long-lost summer when
All things were then in bloom
The beginning of the ending when
The Sun fell for the Moon.