Seasoning

The seasons are changing
The frost is coming
To bring its crystal blanket
And cover the ground with winter
Turning everything brown and
Changing summer’s growth
Into next spring’s compost
It looks as though
It is laying waste
Desolating everything in its path
But with every cycle
Destruction breeds creation
We must not despair
For a withered stalk
Makes food for the next
Wiley buds
Of spring