My Seasons

Every time the thunder sounds,
My heart cries out for you.
The voices in my head are getting louder,
I hope you hear them too.

The night is dark and cloudy now,
But you’re my guiding star.
Yet every time the lighting bolts,
It leaves me with a scar.

I want so badly to witness
The sunrise before I quit.
Even though I’m meant for you,
Sometimes things don’t always fit.

Like rain on a day of sun,
Or snow in mid July,
I hope you see the seasons in me,
Before we both may die.

I’m made up of many things,
The seasons are among a few.
I’m the raging thunder in the spring,
And the blooming flowers too.

I’m the summer sun that’s shining,
And the blizzard on the roof.
The leaves that slowly fall down
Are my only source of proof.

You don’t know my seasons though,
You didn’t take the time
To know my mountains and boulders,
That you were too weak to climb.

You know the darker edges.
The storm on the deadly sea.
But what you forgot to look for,
Were the better parts of me.

The greeting morning sun
As it gently kisses your skin,
Or the sweet breeze on a blazing day,
See, you don’t know where I’ve been.

I have seen the cycle many times,
Winter, spring, summer, and fall.
You don’t see these in me,
Because you don’t know me at all.

There are still parts of me
That I have yet to find.
You will look for me in other women,
But I am one of a kind.

You can search for many miles,
But it won’t be me you’ll see.
Because even with billions of people,
There aren’t any more seasons like me.