It started all by falling,
falling for the spell,
Winter's cold hearts frozen,
brought us closer still.
Then by the time I sprang,
into their golden arms,
my heart was dried a summer fried,
and changed by no alarms.
I never knew their colors-
could shift so sudden,
no.
If only I could have,
but I was left as white as snow.
Then by the blossom of this truth,
I spent last summer in my youth.

Now seasons,
they have taught me well,
that all things come and go.
One would think,
by all this time,
they would already know.
But we are all still learning,
catching up to our own time.
And the more we think we've learned it all,
the more we have to prime.