Seasons

I am the springtime, when everything seems so fine.
Whether rain or sunshine, you will find me playing.
Days full of pretending.
When a dime is a lot to be spending.
A time when life is beginning.
I am the springtime.

I am the winter. When days are cold and bitter.
And the days I can remember number more than the days to come.
When you ride, instead of walking.
When you barely hear the talking.
And goodbyes are said too often.
I am the winter…

But I’ll see springtime in heaven, and it will last forever.

From Seasons of a Man, Steve and Annie Chapman