Spring
In his gaze, a thaw and a blossoming,
Through the ice of phrases, hope begins to sprout.
His lips speak: “Dream and achieve,”
And sow my path with primroses.
It is a time of awakening – tender and swift,
A blessing in every beginning.
And the touch of his hands is a radiant beam,
Leaving clarity behind in place of an inheritance.
Summer
And summer is care in the golden heat,
Untiring labor, endurance, and strength.
Becoming a protector, so that I, into the heights,
Could fly, having unfolded my wings.
In his palms – the heat of midday fields,
In his eyes – warmth that gives vigor and grace.
Shielding us with himself as if he were a buckler,
Bestowing solace like healing water.
Autumn
Autumn arrives – a season of weighty words,
Where every thought is amber foliage.
The two of us, amidst quiet evenings,
Nurture the conversations of dawn.
These dialogues – a harvest matured through the years,
A priceless and living seed in the soul.
He teaches how to hold truth in one’s hands,
Taking root in the depths of memory.
Winter
Winter – it is endurance, courageous power,
When the world around is holy and pure.
He is a rock amidst wind and lightning,
Unmoved, silent, and solemn.
His severity – a law not subject to evil,
A spirit tempered in icy calm.
Inspiring me through the cold and the ash
To remain faithful to my burning star.