The spring meadow glistens in the Winter Sun.
Sweet dew caresses each leaf and petal with warm embrace, lest their
color fade.
The trees shake and let loose spiraling leaves sinking lower to the ground, floating on the wind like sweet nothings from a lover.
The spiced smell of autumn blows, long past due, forcing the grass to
surrender its green and the plants their color. And then, yet in
death, the Earth's beautiful pallette of colors still show. Orange, brown, purple, yellow, all blending with a beautiful richness no mere artist could capture. None but our God. Harsh winds arrive, heralding the cold days of the coming season. Fall is over, and Winter is here, and many more Winters lie ahead. But even through the dark days yet to be, the hope of Spring shines brightly on the horizon.
Sweet dew caresses each leaf and petal with warm embrace, lest their
color fade.
The trees shake and let loose spiraling leaves sinking lower to the ground, floating on the wind like sweet nothings from a lover.
The spiced smell of autumn blows, long past due, forcing the grass to
surrender its green and the plants their color. And then, yet in
death, the Earth's beautiful pallette of colors still show. Orange, brown, purple, yellow, all blending with a beautiful richness no mere artist could capture. None but our God. Harsh winds arrive, heralding the cold days of the coming season. Fall is over, and Winter is here, and many more Winters lie ahead. But even through the dark days yet to be, the hope of Spring shines brightly on the horizon.
Post a Comment
Be the first to comment on this article!