The seasons, ourselves.

Bursting into colour,

Choosing to leave the grey.

Connections grow, become real,

You anchor that within.

Spring sparks the thirst of growth,

Soon roaring into a forest green.

Roses bloom scarlet red,

Washed together within a dream.

The heat of Summer sun offers


Adventures written in the wind.

The thrill of new beginnings

And for what can be fulfilled.

As the tilt of days slips

Into a drench of sapphire blue,

Clouds stagger toward a tumultuous embrace.

A rush of ivory pages ripple across the Autumn canvas.

The elm green leaves transmute to amber,

Falling orange hibiscus drops, delicately defined.


As you hold out your journal, catching each in time.

Winter tugs a weary coldness,

paints the world in broad black strokes.

Uncertain days are thieved by night,

Greedily reaching out for hope.

Yet there’s no worry, you can feel them;

All the people around you,

Unique and like no other.

All of them filled with stories,

made alive with colour.