They sat there looking over the beautiful stretch of lush greens in front of them, the glowing sunrise igniting the golden hour around them. He had his arms draped around her with their backs pressed against the large oak while the low breeze hummed around them. The summer of 19 was happy. Nature thrived, and it was teeming around them. It was serene and calm.
He looked at the snow-covered land in front of him, the sunset painting the sky in shades of blues and purples. The storm was now long gone, and he had the gusts as his company. The winter of 49 was all but happy. Nature halted thriving and teeming around him while he looked where her grave lay at the same spot where he first met her and collected undying souvenirs of them. It was serene and calm.
~aahishka
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Seasons of Remembrance: From Verdant Beginnings to Winter's Solace
PoetryThis poem is a tender reflection on the passage of time, contrasting the vibrant joy of youth with the poignant solitude of old age. It captures the essence of two distinct seasons of life, one filled with the warmth of love and the lushness of natu...
