Seasons of Man

A short, yet beautiful poem about the progression of civilization, as well as man himself.

The Season of Man

Winter
A time of plotting
shake off the old and rotting
Open the mind
to ideas of any kind

Spring
The land is ours
A kingdom like a field of flowers
Fresh and new
To be shaped by me and you

Summer
A time of great prosperity
To be led with much sincerity
The people are aglow
'Tis fear they've yet to know

Fall
The final season
Named so for a reason
To mark the end
And leave us to begin again.