Breaking Down the Seasons, 2021

The night lays thick with sweat and blood as does the day. Every inch of the city reeks, oozing out of its ephemeral shroud now all sunken in. The heat intensifies, heightens, swelters. Everyone taking in, breathing out, intoxicated, kidnapped by this heavy sensation through every extremity, nothing to run away from, nothing to turn back from. Through skyless days, a tinge of blue erupts into volcanic fumes to allow the sun to push through with all its might and shine forth upon the day and the lazy pleasures that await floating by. Summer stalks in and has come.

The chill of the frosty air blows out its icy breath across the land that makes leaves shiver from their thick bark homesteads. Giving way, the platform drops below. They succumb, thrust out upon selfsame breeze, landing in winded sepulchral vaults upon the decaying earth at their feet, passing through, playing upon the wind, swirling in their spheres, spreading their wings of multi-hued crimson and yellow-brown glory. The night creeps slowly from the distant horizon where the bright orange sun dies and plays sacrifice to the life-giving land. Darkness spreads its spidery tendrils to commune with the restless many as all rise up. Autumn treads in its full array.

Suffocation, ice drenching the skin, seeping down into every soul. For every layer added more emphatically, all seems hopeless to inevitable oblivion. The nonexistence of the globe shivers, the land below moans, mourns with all Her might to no avail. Every skeletal limb hangs upon towering bony masses providing no help or shelter from the storm that infiltrates the daily monotony of proceedings. Crunching, shivering, all trudge, wary of what may be underneath as the sky lets loose its fragile blossoms of fluffy white spirits enveloping the world in its blanket of death. Faces crack. Then out from this abyss arrives festive enlightenment, warming hearts to the comforts of the hearth with red fire spirits and bright Green Man life. Winter is majesty here.

Subtle tingling tickles the green and muddy masses. The dragon stirs, awakening from its long underworld slumber it breathes warmth upon the land with beckoning calls. Miniature green heroes of the darkened woods are youthful in bashful appearance, strong and brave of heart. Long did they lay undisturbed, now stretch and reach heavenwards to scatter, carpeting all in the rainbow hues of Nature Herself, radiant in the transformation of time. A lightening of outer layers, of the very air that peaks with sustenance, is welcoming. Coming forth, the free-flowing winds strike the earth with carnal delight, blossoming green and colorful children in every shape, form and hue, every palate paints away dark, forlorn woes. Allows for new hopes, promises of life renewed, the fullness of sensitive organs. Spring reappears with a gentle bow.

And so, the cycle of the seasons rings anew.