Seasons Of Purpose
Nothing ever happens by accident;
tho it may seem on the surface;
nothing can happen without intent;
every life is a season of purpose.
Heaven is a kingdom of thought;
created in absolute perfection;
all sin is imperfection, wrought;
by the prodigal’s insurrection.
Man; cast out of the garden above;
was sent to a season called earth;
sent, to learn the truth about love;
and, in death, experience rebirth.
Nothing can ever happen without reason;
there is purpose in every grain of sand;
defying the Master; an act of high treason;
all acts, through eternity, are planned.
For every love; there’s a season of hate;
for each here; there must be a there;
how could anyone ever come to relate;
without an opposite to compare.
Opposite energies thrive on attraction;
all energies must ebb, and then flow;
life cannot persist; without interaction;
sunshine and rain; make grass grow,
There’s a season for everyone; near and far;
as far as any eye could ever view;
here’s a deep thought; more than bizarre;
there must be a me; if there’s a you.
Monty 9.17.25. # 2,971