Wisdom came in fairy tales
a moonlit wonderland.
So young was I and unaware
of what was in my hand.

What gifts were these I did not know,
till many years had past.
Those childhood rhymes that led me here,
to find my song at last.

Years and tears and caustic words
as parents learned to fight.
I penned my fears and questions down
alone by candlelight.

And heard answers blowin' in the wind
incense, such sweet repast.
Awakened the soul asleep inside,
to find my song at last.

Thinking I was on my way
as young men often do,
I left behind a trail of dreams
forgetting what I knew.

But when she left without a sound,
a hard role had been cast.
Forced to play, I found a way,
to find my song at last.

And now I'm gray and fears are new
and age is in my eyes.
On death and time and dying,
my mind spins it's dark lies.

Remembering the moon light,
a solace from my past.
I can rest, no longer chained,
I've found my song at last.

The Seasons move along so quiet in time,
an ever changing tapestry.
The Seasons know about love's riddles and rhymes,
that lay beneath and Autumn tree.

Where is the Springtime we use to bring,
a time we could call our own?
Where are the love songs we use to sing,
or did I sing them alone?

The Seasons give me time to wrestle my fears,
and show how good a change can be.
The Seasons always bring me beautiful years,
but never bring you back to me.

When in the Winter, does healing begin?
So cold, so lonely, so gray?
Making the flowers love once again,
blowing the leaves away.

The Seasons mend a broken heart with a breeze,
felt by a Summer windowsill.
The Seasons tend to come and go as they please,
and leave behind just what they will.