The Rumour Of Sadness And Change


Seasons came and seasons went
during months in lockdown spent,
summer took a blazing glance,
quickened the astonished plants
who had waited on the lip
of efflorescence, but a dip
in weather's fickle capering
snatched clement airs and left a sting
of stringent frost, of gale and storm
and crucified the longed-for balm,
while global horrors put a brake
on freedom's joy; the hive-mind's wake
soon clipped the wings of halcyon dreams
beside the sea and gleaming streams,
with obtuse yearning for the Fall,
the 'sere and yellow leaf', and gall
went wishing that the equinox
would ring the changes, burst the locks
so that the season might prove true
to former character and hue
and comply with valediction
and settle hackles caused by friction.

But then a miracle occurred,
the sun from slumber rose and stirred,
recalled the season's closing door
and pushed his purpose to the fore,
pierced through pollution's hellish gloom
and for a carnival made room,
the flowers danced in fine array,
rejoicing they could live their day,
to butterflies and bees play host,
thus melancholy musing lost!



Then followed that beautiful season... Summer....
Filled was the air with a dreamy and magical light; and the landscape
Lay as if new created in all the freshness of childhood.

Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

One day you discover you are alive. Explosion! Concussion! Illumination! Delight! You laugh, you dance around, you shout.
But, not long after, the sun goes out. Snow falls, but no one sees it, on an August noon.
 

Ray Bradbury




 

Summer afternoon, summer afternoon; to me those have always been the two most beautiful words in the English language.

Henry James





Summer has filled her veins with light and her heart is washed with noon.

C Day Lewis

  

August rain: the best of the summer gone, and the new fall not yet born. The odd uneven time.

Sylvia Plath



The busy bee has no time for sorrow.

William Blake 

  

Even on the most beautiful days in the whole year - the days when summer is changing into autumn -
the crickets spread the rumour of sadness and change.

E B White





   

 As long as the earth endures,
seedtime and harvest,
cold and heat,
summer and winter,
day and night
will never cease.

Genesis 8:22



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Equinox

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Virgo greets Libra,
pinion of the solstices
holding in tension
summer light and winter dark
a truce between them

tides mock ebbing sap
harvest moon a memory
echoes of dancing
in barns crammed with tarnished stalks
severed from quick grain

birds seek the high wires
melodies upon a stave
designed to carry
messages of other sorts
of hope purged of pain

the season's foils come
spinning down in gales a-whirl
deep-tinctured hues of
the Renaissance period
an eloquent twist

mortal senses pique
at summer's reckless reprise
while subtle odours
of decay spike mists filming
a pumpkin-gold sun

Earth already boasts
proliferant mysteries
flagging the far side
of the arc with lustrous jade
blades of next year's wheat

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