Everything has its own time,
Going through life making the climb;
Just as there must be a reason,
For each and every season.
Spring is bringing upon the bloom,
Chasing away the winter gloom;
The sun opens up the flowers,
Extending the daylight hours.
The summer brings warmth from the sun,
That remains when the day is done;
And as all of you also know,
As it causes the plants to grow.
Come autumn as we see the trees,
The changing colors of the leaves;
Growing colder as north winds blow,
And towards the end will come the snow.
Then as we see the winter blast,
With cold nights that seem to outlast;
And long for someone to snuggle,
To keep you warm through the struggle.
For there is a time to be born,
And live this life as to sojourn;
As well as a time for to die,
A time to laugh and time to cry.
A time for you to plant the field,
And a time to harvest the yield;
For what we sow, we must then reap,
So we can eat as the gardens sleep.
There is even a time to kill,
That if any war would instill;
After the war a time to heal,
As the hostilities repeal.
And when the hostilities cease,
It will bring on a time of peace;
The aftermath may give us strife,
Looking to God for the next life.
Copyright © 2015 Richard Newton Sherrer
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