Each season it’s own To each its own tone A soft whispery breath Or loud declare of success Bright and bold colors Throughout the seasons The birth to others The sun shining for a reason The harsh thoughts No light can melt soft Tendrils that glow Pearly white snow The flood of warnings For the season coming Brightly red gasps And bitter green grasps The grass is green Soaking in the beams Of light interrupted by shower When doe’ll lay and cower The seasons have their own greeting To set the tone of the meeting A soft hello and goodbye Or and exhilarating shout of bonding ties

Snow pours down upon the Earth, The children laugh and play, The radio sings songs of mirth, All through the day. The Christmas bells are ringing now, The world is full of glee, But this heart of mine knows nothing now, But misery. Today, this Christmas, you are not here, You’ve gone to a land far, far away, And since the day you disappeared, I’m not the same. I am but a woman lost at sea, Who dreams of distant Shores, The far away land, where we are free, And I am yours.

That time of the year where hearts are open with cheer and give thanks, amen

Season’s Greetings - the world is bright and loud, but full of so much promise. Season’s Greetings - you fall and skin your knee, comforted by your mother’s love. Season’s Greetings - books replace toys and studying replaces play, the real world begins. Season’s Greetings - you leave the warmth of your mother’s love and emerge into the world on your own. Season’s Greetings - the world had dulled with monotony, but now brightens with her smile. Season’s Greetings - wedding bells chime and the promise of little feet sweetens the world. Season’s Greetings - you guide your daughter into the bright and loud world that you yourself have grown so comfortable with. Season’s Greetings - your daughter grows and you watch her hit every milestone that you did. Season’s Greetings - your baby leaves home but you revel in the marriage that has become your entire world. Season’s Greetings - the days grow shorter the longer you live. Season’s Greetings - the days end with the squeeze of a hand and a smile at the flashes of life that you lived.

This poem might fall in a snow storm Maybe it tip-taps on a rainy day Or forces you under the shade of a tree And no matter where it finds you I greet you as the season of your choice

Centre-Val de Loire, France, 1996 I couldn’t help but glance down at the ring on my finger once again. My hand joined with his, our rings clinked together with every adjustment of his grip as we proceeded down the aisle for a second time. First ascending as two, and now descending as one. Two bodies, one heart joined together endlessly by love. And truly it was vœux de fin d’année. Vœux aux saisons d’amour.

Seasons greetings, There are so many seasons in one life time And sometimes we can go through so many at one time, One after the other, Starting one before ending another, Nothing worse than a premature season, How I promise you’ll have at least a couple of those before you’re thirty You’ll hear so many seasons greeting you that you can’t keep track, You’ll lose count, They’ll be coming faster than you can see, Faster than you can breathe, It ain’t fair, How they wait for no one, or nothing Season greetings, They’re a little intrusive Coming when they want, At times never when you want Seasons greetings, Ready or not Here they always come.

and with winter comes the cold frigid air and frigid bones a foggy head illuminated only by the light and the warmth of a happy holiday and a season’s greetings wrapped in red and gold from your old friend nostalgia

Season’s greetings, little one Your laughter pure as winter white, Your eyes sparkling like luminaries Gleaming in the night. I watch a smile play across her lips As she bounces you on her knee, And you giggle at the ornaments Upon our Christmas tree. Holidays are always hard For both her, you, and me It’s always just the three of us Our little family. Sometimes I wonder where we’d be If so many years ago My parents had accepted us And tried harder just to know. I can almost see them now My mom feeding you gingerbread, My dad letting you sip eggnog A Santa hat upon his head. I wonder what it would be like If we could all only get along Our silent studio filled with voices Singing a holiday song. I wish it could be different But hate is hard to destroy So for Christmas it’s just me and her And now you, our bundle of joy. In my heart I know that love is love And though our battle’s far from won, Your mommies will always love you Seasons’ greetings, little one.

I wake with an ache in my joints and lightning shooting down my leg. My cycle changing with long, drawn out bleeding; enough to stain my bed. I rub my eyes, bringing my vision back into focus. I’m greeted by the sight of my mother’s hands. My mother’s hands make my children breakfast. My mother’s hands cup their tiny faces before grazing tiny noses with a kiss. I catch a glance in the mirror as I walk past; my dark circles are a reflection of this season of life.