Hello,
My name is Viola and welcome to this short pause meditative practice.
I wrote this when I was walking out in the woods.
I hope you enjoy it as much as I loved writing it.
I call it Seasons.
Seasons.
Autumn arrives with a display of red,
Orange,
And yellow leaves.
It is a gift for all to see,
And there stands one grand old tree.
Its seeds were planted generations ago,
And despite its age,
It remains wise,
Enduring the test of time.
Its branches give shade to a cosy wooden home,
Its roof is made of mud,
And its walls are built from love.
A gentle breeze flows through the open window,
Carrying the scent of the new harvest into the room.
Wrapped in a home-knit blanket,
Sleeps Samuel,
The family precious jewel.
The air is crisp,
Blowing towards the branches which are shredding to save water as the days become shorter,
Preparing for winter.
And Samuel met this thing called snow as it melted on his nose,
And he discovered walking when he leaned on his toes.
It's been cold for so long,
And all the trees appear worn in the lifting home.
Samuel sits by the fireplace in the warmth of his mama's embrace.
The old tree's branches,
Twisting and stretching,
Pluck out new buds.
Longer days bring blooming flowers,
Butterflies,
And rain showers.
Birds are singing,
Spring arrives,
Bees are humming,
And Samuel,
Well,
He's now running.
The tree is tall and very green.
Sweet smelling scents hit the scene,
Bats are darting for it is June while grasshoppers chirp up into the moon.
As we enter now the warmest time of the year,
Samuel is learning how to swim with his new training fins,
And he loves blowing bubbles and having ice pops and nature.
There's a rumor that Samuel recently became a painter.
Today,
Samuel asked,
How was the old tree born?
And learned it came from seeds and that trees are helpers by keeping our air clean to breathe.
August bids farewell and takes a bow.
Samuel finds soft ground to dig a hole and plants a sapling with good soil.
He watered and cared for it,
And Samuel,
Like the tree,
Grows strong,
And the two of them form this incredible bond.
You like a tree are unique,
Supported by the skies and the earth beneath your feet.
When you are low,
Look up towards the light and bend with the ups and downs of life.
Be patient with yourself.
Aiming for perfection is a waste of time.
And remember,
Seasons come and flow along.
May we slow down to take them in before the next one begins.
