The Symphony of the Seasons,
A silent yet screaming sense of reason.
Spring,
A silent sound of a blue ring.
Yet a screaming cry of beautiful blooms
That brings countless,
Sweet-smelling perfumes.
Summer,
As silent as a nonexistent drummer.
Yet a cry of warming
Resonation of performing
That brings gentle springs and endless
Blissful dreams.
Fall,
A silent sound that seems so small.
Yet a shout of calmness,
Like an unspoken promise of
Calm dreams, nights,
And kind sights.
Winter,
A silent understanding of its reenter.
Yet a call of sleek coldness,
It's bright white confident boldness,
And it wishes polite delight.
YOU ARE READING
As Time Slows Around Us [Poetry]
PoetryAs complicated as time itself, like the silent conversations with the moon and sun, lie the complexity of the screaming but silent thoughts of the stars. "All that we see or seem is but a dream within a dream." ...
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