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Saturday, 8 December 2012

The Seasons

It seems to me we favour most
the season of our age --
though truth to tell, the summer's heat,
for all the time that I recall,
would leave me cool inside.

My first love was
vivacious spring,
its joie de vivre,
its brightness, hope and colour sense.
It was a long affair. Perhaps too long.
But then again: no one got hurt.

So summer time was overlooked
and went without the small amount
of credit it deserved. Harsh of light,
bunged full of stuff,
it lost its shape.
Warm, staid and comforting,
its boring days
were friendly and reserved.
I kept it just for doing things --
other things, not things with it.

Autumn took me by surprise
(the way that summer did to Eliot
across the Starnbergersee),
but like a lover in my case --
like one I'd always courted,
but never thought to win,
who'd never shown the slightest heed,
but then had caught me willy-nilly
with dark and flashing eyes.

But now, ah now, 'tis winter time:
the season and my soul agree --
and if the body jibs a bit,
it always was a misery,
not liking this or that...
I bow to winter and its charms,
its stark and minimal delights,
its skeletons and filigrees
like blueprints in His pattern book
the Craftsman opens just for those
who'll revel in His Winter show,
and so reveals this time of year,
the elegance of structures,
the underlying rhythms:
His reasons and his rhymes.


13 comments:

The Elephant's Child said...

Hooray for the elegance of winter, for the delights of snuggling into bed and curling up with a book. Spring and autumn also have their charms but winter is my true love and always has been. Which, may meant that for some years I was old before my time, and only now am I growing into myself. So beit, I am still a winter fan.

The Elephant's Child said...
This comment has been removed by the author.
Brian Miller said...

in the winter of life we find wisdom...the elegance of structures,
the underlying rhythms...i like the way you put that....each season has its perks and challenges....

Mary said...

I enjoyed this reflection very much, Dave. I don't ever see myself as a 'winter' person though. But I am going to have a heck-of-a-full autumn! Smiles.

Heaven said...

Beautiful reflections Dave, specially the opening and closing lines ~ I am not much of a winter person, but I bow to its stark and minimal delights ~

A pleasure to read ~

Claudia said...

the elegance of structures,
the underlying rhythms:
His reasons and his rhymes...love this..and think we need to go all the way through the seasons to come to this..beautifully penned

Cloudia said...

such a wonderful concept, well carried out, my winter friend.

Some lovely lines!


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haricot said...

Your desciption suggests many elements of our lives. In each season we find ourselves differently and significantly.
Beautiful writing!

Dave King said...

The Elephant's Child
That sounds like you and I both! Hail friend and well met! Thanks.

Brian
Yes, they do each have their perks and challenges, but just as I have always felt myself to be 40 (ish), so now I am awinter person inside - not sure how that works out, though!

Mary
I didn't see myself as one until recently - and nw I feel the cold more than I ever did -- but body and soul don't always agree!

Heaven
It comes to you, I find!

Claudia
Thanks for this. Very helpful.

Cloudia
Thanks Cloudia

haricot
Yes, I can say Amen to that. Thanks for it.



Ygraine said...

Yes, winter does have it's undeniable charms - like snuggling up under a duvet with a glass of mulled wine and a good book;
but summer is my first love, with it's long hot(hopefully) days and holidays; picnics and kayaking.
Facinating read, Dave :)

Jenny Woolf said...

An interesting concept, although this is not my view. As a child, I preferred winter. When Spring comes I always remember that I love it best.

Cait O'Connor said...

Winter has so many delights and never disappoints, unlike summer which nearly always does of late. I love this poem, it makes me reflect.

A Cuban In London said...

I never cease to be amazed at how quickly winter arrives. Just when I begin to enjoy autumn's colours, a harsh northeasterly wind blows my hopes away. Beautiful poem. Many thanks.

Greetings from London.