gustave caillebotte

And so, fields of green.
New breath of life
Seeking spring rains
Which pleasantly placate
The thirst
Of all things.

And so, fields of gold.
O, the time of our stand
Passing quickly, steadily…
Now balmy days of reflection:
Satisfied and flourishing,
Certain and abounding

And so, fields of gray.
Joyful rest in shortened days
Blanketed with a colorful covering
Of leaves from trees.
Wiser now and older, patient.
Seeds sown and heart so very content.

And so, fields of bleakness.
Solemn depth of wintry sleep.
No sorrow in God’s arms, though,
Knowing with a true heart
That what we have lived
Will continue in season next.

(c) 2014 rick stassi