SEASONS OF MAN

In every season there is something to be said.
In every season there is a word unread.
Skipped over because it hurts,
Or read over like it’s dessert.
Some in seasons of hope,
While others are choked by the rope.
It’s the circle of life. 
Sharp as a knife.
Rich as a chocolate cake.
So much is at stake.
In every chapter of a story,
Is sorrow and glory.
The strangest melody,
That feels like a felony.
Confusing as a plot,
Strong as an ink blot.
When good and bad come together.
It is hard to weather.
But part of every season.
I don’t have to know the reason.
Although I will ask why…
One got married and the other died?
No answer is needed.
Only that I feel defeated,
And know that God is listening.
To the out cries we all are singing.
Whether it’s pain unable to be said,
Or a joy that fills one’s head.
Written before time began,
Was the seasons of man.

R.d. Jess