The Turning Wheel Poem by Lewis Dever

Spring stirs awake from winter's hollow chill,
Petals shake free, unfurling in a thrill—
Soft whispers of green in grey cracks appear,
Life rising like a breath, so bright, so clear.

But summer storms in bold with restless heat,
Long days stretch wild, relentless in their beat.
Sun-baked fields and nights so sweetly warm,
A love affair with light, sun-spun and worn.

Then autumn sighs with colours that combust,
As if all things once golden turn to rust.
Leaves fall like hours, softly they descend,
A blaze of beauty, burning to an end.

Winter wraps tight in silent, star-lit grace,
Frost settles like a veil on earth's calm face.
The world grows still, and under snow's embrace,
Old dreams lie sleeping, waiting to replace.

So seasons turn and come, yet never stay,
Each passing breath a part of their ballet.
And as they go, they teach with fleeting care—
That all things change, but beauty's always there.