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https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qrgU23IkC9w

We are like the four seasons of the earth, spring, summer ,fall and winter
First we are born like newborn babes springing into life by push of womb
then we are pulsing like heartbeats in a world that surrounds our battle cry  
Slowly we become summer letting our branches stretch strong and solid,
we still have spring in our step but we now got fires of July in our blood ;
Then falls arrives and places burnished reds and golds in our aging coat,
flecks of wisdom in our eyes and laughter lines around our aging mouth ;
Winter arrives and kisses us with her frozen dollops of snowflakes, it is
then that we first realize that our limbs are not as subtle as they used to be.
We are like the four seasons and for a good reason
one minute we are a lighthouse , a beacon
and the next we are like clothing, out of season
Time is everything and nothing in this journey of self discovery
we need to keep pace with ourselves and change accordingly
If we are to reach a ripe age of reason, then we must learn to love
each and every season of our life.
Do I Hear Amen to that ?
A rose bud of beauty appears on the scene scented full of essence
two cellophane wings clinging to the petals of a sweetie floret
life becomes new again as spring resurges with sunlit liquescence
Springtime jewels enhanced by the blaze of a  salubrious ray  
glitters of the morning placing us among the living once again    
acquiescent rebirth, we can finally envision a beautiful day
Baseball fields, cracking bats and whooping laughter glances  
children playing in fields of flowers restored, revived, alive  
park bench kisses,  moonlit walks and balcony romances    
Soon the days will seem much longer, as we stroll delightful
wildlife will re-echo her song, and we'll feel  powerful ,
once again.
 Mar 2021 Donna
Eshwara Prasad
Why do we honor both love and death with floral tributes?
 Mar 2021 Donna
Mrs Timetable
Heartbroken
To see hundreds of years
Uprooted and thrown
To the ground
Broken
Destroyed
A wicked wind
So violent
It took out the young
Newly rooted
The ancient
The massive
Weak from drought
Majestic and still
Laying on their sides
Looking imposing
Root history exposed
For all to see
For me
An honor
To witness
Laying there
Respecting more now
Than when you were born
You did make a name
Appreciating now
You weren't only a tree
96 MPH winds took out an incredible amount of trees this past week. I've never looked at these trees like I did this week.  Not to mention the power of the wind.  Massive trees uprooted and knocked down. It was death. And it was heartbreaking.
May the butterflies of this world return to us once more
when the spring provides her heat we will no longer hide
Eastern winds of far away lands flying in unknown shores
their cellophane wings of light need to return and chide  
Once they adorned our many flowers here in Canada
now they are a memory of yesterday's summer gaze
I cling to the hope that tomorrow I won't need algebra
to count the flutter of their wings, like yonder days
I'll know them by the colors of their flight and groove
that April has arrived with her rainy cascade  
all the trees will suspire as they soften their moves  
garnished once again, with butterflies of every shade
I know that when the season wakes we are going to see
Monarchs, European skippers, and frosted elfin too
as the warmer shades and colors meld into the sea
we will begin to spot the pupas, and butterflies anew.
 Mar 2021 Donna
Jackie Mead
Sunny days
You came again!
You are a balm to our soul.
In an otherwise world of grey,
You bring colour.
In a world of coldness,
You bring warmth.
In a world of silence,
You bring sounds.
In a world of loneliness,
You bring togetherness.
In a world of uncertainty,
You bring peacefulness.
  
When the pandemic is at bay.
You will bring beauty to another day.
Thank you for staying around!
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