Renaissance

Now past midsummer, the days grow shorter once more.
The afternoons no longer stifle with their heat and are filled
with inviting warmth,
Tempting outside those who desire everlasting lemony sun,
aqua skies, and verdant fields,
But know that decay and cold desolation tarry not,
And despite pressing obligations, opportunities such as these
must not be forsaken,
As the harvest draws near and reapers appear on the horizon.

While one cycle traverses apex and slowly starts to slide,
Another past nadir ascends with flowery debut.
The barren and despairing winter two months since broken,
Landscape altered past recognition by time, distance,
and thawed attitude,
Tempermental composition richly budded with hope
for new life, loves, lessons,
Petals peel as a bell peals,
Nurtured by dewy mornings, encouraging warmth, and
surrounding freshness about.
Bounty is promised for some distant day,
Should diligence be done during the dreary days to come.
As the last chime echoes off neighboring homes,
Bees near the blossom, seeking sustenance.