The Turning Year

Winter whispers soft and low,

In silver fields of drifting snow,

The world lies still, the rivers sleep,

While silent stars their vigil keep.

Then spring arrives with gentle rain,

Awakening life from frozen pain,

Bud and blossom paint the air,

With fragrant hope and colors rare.

Summer follows, bold and bright,

Golden days and velvet night,

Laughter dances in the breeze,

Through sunlit skies and emerald trees.

At last comes autumn, crisp and wise,

With amber leaves and cooling skies,

A season dressed in fire and gold,

A quiet tale of growing old.

So turns the year, both fierce and kind,

A mirror of the human mind—

Each season passing, yet they stay,

In hearts that change, then find their way.