Ecc. 3: 1 To every thing there is a season, and a time to every purpose under the heaven:
Crippled leaves cross the field
Wispy winds stir by
Gone is heat from raging sun
Winter’s frost draws nigh.
Trees are green, orange and yellow
Progression has begun
Seasons melt a new one reigns
With the setting of the sun.
Combines wipe the farmland clean
The cows are sent to the meadow
Trees they weep their leaves are gone
Harvesters reap what they sow.
Clouds they form a serpentine flower
Displays of a heavenly hue.
Blue erupts from the gray
The angel’s seasonal stew.
Sprouting ceases as summer ends
Russet rests on the floor.
Pearly white will welcome the season
Salting the ground once more.