A continuing time of year . . .

Seasons Now

Since the Spring, the season has surged
To spread across a controlled kind
Of oppressed land, but truly purged
Life now known does follow and find.

So the scene but wrought what became
The spectacle that protest saw
As the route to the rulers’ shame
That broke what was the human law.

The defied damns that the poor pent
To rally raw sense so damned real
Now should spill to shock and present
Paths travelled to learn life and heal.

But some still worry what will bring
The masses more free and to the fore,
Should the faith shield what souls who sing,
Imprisoning all not of the core.

Or would want describe deeds that spell
The structure of awakened hands
Whose near needs harbor a life well,
When followed by work it demands.

But the age of the closeted guard
Gives not an inch until it plies
Its sworn strength to do or discard
The people’s peace that life applies.

What new mold their world might now take
Abides by a reason or sense
That contorts to what will it wakes
In publics finding future tense.

RVM            (12/23/2011)