Weeping like a willow
monsoon rains, tear stained pillows
hurricane came, clouds dissipate
so it seems strange, you no longer seem the same
Is it me I proclaimed?
as my seasons changed
ominous moods came
orange turned to grey
then blue as I turned to you
But on this day, it pains me to say
maybe you were more fair-weather than true
I’ve come to realize as I look to the sky
through many storms you were there to pull me through
now my sun shines bright and I turn to the side, stunned as I no longer see you
Time always reveals
which Sequoia is real
which will last after the storm has passed
This as I confess no need to worry or obsess
as I move on no hymns, dirges, or melancholy words to profess
Though our journey is through
I’ll never forget you
just reason it’s our season’s time to end
