Summer days seeming, seeming to end,
The green deepens to close every bend.
Birds spread their wings and fly low in the sky
Flocked to far away warmth, into the sun’s eye.
You will always be there,
the heart remembers we are One.
Seasons change, time shifts, like the afternoon sun.
See the glow, feel the warmth,
in the stillness that, His love is spun.
Here in the garden of the summer’s slow end,
There are new beginnings, this in Love’s sweet lend.
When the birds fly like arrows with songs of mystery
Our heart goes with them, in joy’s jubilee.
Summer end days, Summer’s slow lend,
How we linger, how we dream.
In the heavy full sweetness of the
Green’s last swooning gleam.
© 2019 Linda Willows
For everything there is a season, and a time for every matter under heaven:
a time to be born, and a time to die;
a time to plant, and a time to pluck up what is planted;
a time to kill, and a time to heal;
a time to break down, and a time to build up;
a time to weep, and a time to laugh;
a time to mourn, and a time to dance;
a time to cast away stones, and a time to gather stones together;
a time to embrace, and a time to refrain from embracing;
a time to seek, and a time to lose;
a time to keep, and a time to cast away;
a time to tear, and a time to sew;
a time to keep silence, and a time to speak;
a time to love, and a time to hate;
a time for war, and a time for peace.