Wintergreen

Seasons

Her touch is an infinite instant of a January snow’s fingerprint
Each flake individually unique, and hers is like the memory of one’s first snowfall:
A chill ever so startling and strange, yet with an accompanying warm tint
That excites and calms, enlightens and fools; it’s the first hello and the final phone call

Her hair is an earthen tone and her eyes a shade of this great pebble’s waters
The mere glance of her appearance inspired awe, as if one was witnessing the birth of a perfect galaxy
From the belly of an erupting supernova, and this would one day resonate with her sons and daughters
Who will be just like the planets and stars – a pool of magnificence beyond reality

Her presence was new, like the world to a child, full of green and blue hues
Her absence is indifferent, like an adolescent losing touch with exploring
The day ended yet lives on, like Christ still present after hours in the church pews
The sermon was unforgettable, one that the congregation will regard as wintergreen

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