She was spring
he winter
when bronzing heat
melted time.
In mid-summer haze
fruits dangled ripening from tangled vines
evincing feminine stealth
of changing seasons.
Cynics call transformation fairy tale.
Frogs don’t become princes.
But lives of labor turned into
love into loss into light
ain’t a lie.
Neither is the crimsoning of autumnal leaves.
+++++++++++++++
Do you look forward to the changing of the seasons?
It’s almost fall which means I get to see more of the SF sun real soon. Yay!
As for transformation, the seasons are an indication that it’s not only possible but inevitable. I find this comforting during this time of deepening crises, protracted results and wavering leadership. Do you as well?
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{ 13 comments… read them below or add one }
Yes it is comforting to have somethings that aren’t burgeoning variables
Enjoy the city as she opens her arms to receive the sun
We’re having an early fall. Since I still need to paint the outside of the house, this isn’t sitting real well with me.
A gorgeous poem, Belinda. Enjoy your beautiful city!
I am still tripping over “crimsoning” …that one is a mouth full.
Belinda…
Your 55 was perfect.
Your Poetic form was perfect.
I will say this, to me Autumn means FOOTBALL!!!
Loved your 55, Top Notch!
Thanks for playing, and have a Kick Ass Week-End
This was beautiful. We don’t experience seasons in the desert. This is what I miss the most about home – the hues of the leaves changing, the crispness of the air in the morning time, and the warmth of hot chocolate in the evening.
I know the seasons changing in SF will be glorious. Enjoy my friend.
A very satisfying 55. Thank you
mind blowing thoughts and image.
you rock.
Oh how wonderful!!
I do like changing of seasons, mostly, but must say I do not like winter. So I love Autumn…if it changed into spring. : )
Autumn always makes me feel hopeful. Beautiful write.
love into loss, into light. Belinda, that’s startlingly beautiful! The whole poem is. And so are YOU!
xo
What a beautiful poem!
No fall here in England, but autumn soon – the leaves are still hopefully green.
‘Lives of labor turned into love into loss into light’… such a wonderful capturing of all that matters. Yes, that is exactly how it is. And must be why we keep on!