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The cold breeze through the window left ajar as I rest
Reminds me that summer is gone and autumn is stirring,
Bringing sadness as the lawn is mown for the last time
Sadness as summer shorts give way to warmer trousers.

I watch as the cycle begins again, that dreaded cyclical
Pattern we can’t get out of, daytime and night,
Seedtime and harvest, laughter and tears, life and death
Only death breaks the dreaded cycle, death the end of all.

Oh joyous death, the end of life, of change, of stress
Beginning of new dimensions, of new experiences,
Glimpsed by sages in Antiquity, by Greeks by Persians
By Chinese, by Jews, by too many not to want it.

Autumn, bring on autumn, bring on winter,
Bring on spring and the following summer
Until I’ve seen them all and sleep to wake no more,
Bring on the seasons, the cycle the change, until my end.


– James Hart


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