The Changing of the Seasons
#6 of Esoterica
This is a story poem that I had written during the fall to express what I thought about how the seasons change. I thought it would be interesting to personify the seasons and have them change as if to be guards at a post changing shifts. I wanted to give the feel that the seasons were a title that each character had to grow up to earn and that this was a family affair to keep the natural processes of the world in check. I've recently completed a follow up story as a spiritual successor to this one called 'Season's Front' in which the family dynamic has shifted to strangers that have an understanding of their role in the world.
When the leaves begin to fall and the trees begin to turn, a once emerald forest leans scarlet for next season's yearn. Summer yawns his heated breath and looks across an open swath where Autumn tips her hat and greets her kin with a gentle waft. Father Time has called this meeting for Summer's warmth is receding, his hour is fleeting, and thus this cordial greeting. Mother Nature provides the stage for the ceremony of Autumn's coming of age.
"So you've finally made it," Summer states in a slightly jaded tone. "I was afraid you might have lost your way while traveling on your own." Autumn smiles as she faces her brother and senses his mild concern. "I'm not a child anymore so we can trade malachite for crimson in turn. I'm finally old enough to handle the mechanism of my power and I'm excited to see what I can do beyond your final hour." Summer sighs at the statement of truth that Mother has chosen to change her guise and simply replies, "I realize." Father takes the hand of Autumn and places it in Summer's grasp, "The two of you shall conduct the dance and you season can change at last."
He points is cane to a shimmering font that Mother had left for this occasion and guides the siblings into place as their established liaison; if not for Summer whom at this moment is to be so brazen. Summer's intent is to be the first, but Father stops him cold. "Foolish boy! This must occur exactly as we have rehearsed. Think naught that you can best me simply because I'm old." Autumn chuckles under her chilled breath, "Even Spring was never this fresh. Gosh, to be so bold." Mother rolls her collective eyes as her exclamation and says, "You must hurry before your bantling sister Winter gets cold."
The seasons twist and turn about atop the sacred glittering pool, the air above from scorching hot gently shifting into cool, Father crooning from afar reciting the archaic aria tool. "The sun sets to settle, the sky gets a level when night starts to meddle in thy time, embezzled. In starlight I revel in Nature's stations disheveled; this year is now up-held by Autumn's light, assemble!"
A flash erupts from within the font to eclipse the encroaching night and the green of Mother's leafy dress turns russet from Summer's flight. Autumn hangs softly in the air to drift among the trees, press upon the cotton clouds, and float between the reeds. "My child you have done it and your reign begins this night. Enjoy this time while you have it now, come Winter's frosty bite." Father stamps his cane and is dispelled into the ether while Mother lays appeased with the tones that have come to meet her. Autumn gazes upon the land and grins in satisfaction, seeing the creatures of the forest prepare before Winter takes her hold. "Yes, gather all of your preserves and take company with your faction. My harvest is your sentinel until the world is shrouded in a blanket of cold."