Seasons Past

I have come to see, many, a seasons past
When mistletoe is hung throughout the town
Yet not a kiss nor an embrace to take this rite of grace
Traditions fade as time evades the simple truth at face

I have come to know, many, a seasons past
Where the quiet of the night brings hope
That a miracle for Christmas morn comes new
In a world where love and peace may ring true

I have come to surmise, many, a seasons past
How most want things that speed with a shine
Lace and stockings draped in satin and silks
Wined and dined by flaming candlesticks

I have come to respect, many, a seasons past
When choices made by ones mortal rite
To live a life outside the box a little
Or fall down a hole like Alice Liddell

I have come to hold, many, a seasons past
Where solitude rebirths a vibrant heart
Alone in the woods, mountaintops speak
In silence, of their majestic peaks


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