When Summer Whispers Sweet Nothings

When summer whispers sweet nothings to September

the trees blush, the winds giggle, and even the leaves start to fall

in love with the ground just a little.

Upon their passing, October catches just a glimpse

of September's twinkle and smiles knowingly, warmly --

turning every branch into a golden bouquet

that carries over to November's grand gesture of trying to freeze this

moment "just because" there is no other thing quite as spectacular.

But, November remembers you can't freeze a moment in time.

You can only see and cherish that each leaf holds a slightly different hue --

Man's in the mind of the creator....and what is, is beautiful.

The first patterned intricacy of ice soon becomes a full-sized blanket

crocheted by December's skillful hands in a delicate covering of white.

...Bundling, tucking, and buttoning in.

And in the canopy, the same...a linen closet of snow awaits.

Shivering blast! January's opened the door for Newness

and left it wide! We all raise a shout to welcome her, then we wait and wait some more,

we peer outside, but no footprints are visible and the cold stings our faces.

No one wants to say it, but even January wonders if Newness didn't survive.

The journey was long and the blizzards, blinding,

but February made it through with Love guiding each step

The stories of her journeys were delightful and made us all wonder at how, in the midst of

an arctic blast, she could feel a strange sense of summer.

Warm inside....outside, winds roaring so loudly, you can barely hear March,

left, left, left, right, left....trudging through the snow on strict orders to bring back

Spring no matter the cost.  The days seem cruel and daunting, the mission of March

sees little success. And then one day, tulips

Puckering up as the rain gives the ground sloppy kisses, April dances through the puddles.

She offers us fantastic snow cones and slushies..but, she also brings her small pack of crayons and colors a few pictures on our blank canvas of snow....and that is her true passion.  She is not satisfied with her artistry...and dreams of learning secrets and new techniques...so, she asks us if she May

Meet an exquisite artist, she does....and he teaches her that colors come from life and life,

from what you pray. She teasingly calls him Mr. May I because he encourages her to ask God, "May I?" in faith for all the blues, greens, pinks, and reds she can dream of.  She laughs at first because this seems strange, but then she takes the leap. 

"Is a rose, called by any other, just as sweet?" "How do caterpillars sprout their wings?" June is unique.  "Is that music?"  "Are they dancing?"   She has an ever inquiring mind.  June bugs some people, but I think it's fine that she wonders about things she can't adequately describe...because her curiosity leads her to see things that others seem to overlook...

...Like, how it is that fireflies light the world like stars for the beautiful July.  Wherever she walks, a warm breeze follows her with a glass of lemonade.  And, caring nothing for socks, she paints her toes and could easily flirt with the sun or the shade if she wanted to.  In fact, I overheard one of them say, "She's hot!" But, she seems content to wait.

She's not looking for a fling...because she has a secret....shhhh! She is already engaged and her wedding's just one month away.  And she knows she is blessed because when we are at rest we do not think to keep track of months or days....the time just seems to melt into a sweetness called
Summer.  

And so, August, he is on his way.  And, this year, he is coming to whisk July away.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=O1KsGtMZ9HI
...just as sure as the seasons are made for change...