Rustling leaves must be sounding like autumn, <br />Judging the ground we walk, and also <br />How we trudge along life after death <br />Has happened to the summer season of Joy. <br /> <br />Leave us when it is winter, as it is cold, <br />As the fright from temperature is solid, <br />And the life is barren and it is desolate - <br />Where trees are like the weird sort, the terrible sort. <br /> <br />It is now Spring, when life carries a deal <br />Of much greatness, of greater forgiveness. <br />There is light in the branches to liven our hearts <br />And fill us enough for summer; we had the sun again.<br /><br />Naveed Akram<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/season-after-season/
