Snowbud

I figure that living may outweigh dying… But letting death go was a few years trying.
Relearning life was indeed petrifying…Although needs must when the devil is driving.

Being born in summer & living in spring…Sudden chills in the eves are a frightful thing.
In frost scented air as the long nights take wing…I sit by my hearth & of color I sing.

Life flows like birth & death’s cycles on repeat…We trod o’er the starts & the ends under feet. 
Ignorant of nuance in seasons so fleet…The rush of life intoxicating & sweet.

Towards death hewn horizons we all do rush…Mistaking the future as golden & lush.
Collecting burdens that are destined to crush…Thinking they’ll make our destination more plush.

I once saw clearly my future in vision…Halting my progress in wrecking collision.
Long I sat licking my wounds of abscission…But now bloom in snow by warmth of decision.