The Seasons Of A Heart

As I was kicking through the leaves strewn ‘bout is disarray,
I thought about what held them to that branch just yesterday.
Clinging to their autumn home a show to comprehend
One last display of beauty as a season soon will end.

I pondered what the purpose is, as spring reveals intent,
No choices given where to grow, this natural event.
And also with beginnings come a purpose to complete
Enduring for a season, then the cycle will repeat.

I thought about how love is like the leaves now cast astray,
Once part of something wonderful, then meant to break away.
And suddenly it came to me, just as the leaves bestow,
There’s meant to be a time to pause, and also when to grow.

And even now though strewn about, no longer to uphold,
And even though its’ beauty spent, a story has been told.
For all there is a purpose, and each must play their part.
And each will know it's splendor …
Like the seasons of a heart.