Poem #97 - Seasons of Life

My mother's twin brother took his last earthly breath yesterday. How comforting to know that he's being well taken care of now by many we've already said goodbye to, and to know that our family will see him again some day. The poem that came through today is a wonderful reminder, and I dedicate it to my uncle, Ray Sweigart...

Seasons of life flow from one to the other
Fall leads to winter as spring leads to summer.
Always the cyclical rhythm repeats.
On and on like the seasons the human heart beats.

First it is Spring, and with it new birth
As fresh sprouting flowers do rise from the earth.
Then comes the summer and warmth you do feel
And with it real growth, its days do reveal.

As the sun shines the brightest, then you can see
And grow from its warmth -- grow as tall as a tree.
Then comes the Fall and the sun starts to dim.
The days they grow longer, ‘til winter blows in.

Colder days are the norm as the body slows down
The end of the cycle often comes with a frown.
What lies beyond the last season? you wonder with fright
As the sun goes away and day turns into night.

It’s the nature of cycles to start and to end.
They never go straight—by their nature they bend.
Round and round they do go, always starting anew.
What seems like the end is a fresh start for you.

Here on your Earth there’s a limit of space.
No room for containing the whole human race.
There must be a way to make room for one more
And so t’ward the heavens there opens a door.

Death’s not an ending, but lo—a fresh start.
But first from this life here on Earth you must part.
And then a new cycle begins yet again.
A new form of life, but a life without end.

Fear not the new cycle, although it means loss.
For eventually all to new life they will cross.
It’s all part of nature, as natural as breath.
So fear not, but welcome, this change you call death.