Seasons of Thought

The crisp crunch of autumn leaves,
Sung beneath her toes.
Bare bark, raw and rough,
The trees had finally stripped their coats.

A changing from one thing to the next:
Like a caterpillar in its cacoon.
It was as if her mind was autumn
When negative thoughts began to loom.

Suddenly her summer breeze,
Blew away into winter storm.
The asylum of a summer day
Was within her mind no more.

Winter creeps in like doubt,
Slowly but surely, cold -
A season she could live without.
Like most, she preferred to feel warm

But mother nature controlled that fate.
However, she controlled her mind.
So, when winter doubts began to speak,
It was her summer days she looked to find.

Soft petals dancing across meadows,
As if praise, good news, or compliments,
Riding the breeze infinitely.
A fate, not even she could prevent.

Because mother nature controls the seasons,
The rain, and storm creating floods
But she controls her mind,
Forever struggling, to stay above.