In the spring
everything seemed to smell fresh
everything tickled our nostrils with possibility
the opportunity to fulfill our wants and needs
In the summer
everything grew that we planted
everything was revealed in the sun-kissed fields where we had scattered
our bag of seeds
In the fall
everything was harvested
everything presented a bill of consequences
like a storm of falling leaves
In the winter
everything was cold and barren
everything on earth was waiting for redemption
groaning for a chance to begin again
Kelvin Bueckert 