Every winter, fog cascades into spring
Greeting its scents from remnants of autumn
Igniting tempests for summer to bring
Until roses meet their finest blossom...
To such, I may last into vast of dust
Collapsed to scatters, grasped along to breeze
For even ancient ravines must combust
And lapse through the void of all centuries...
When through billion suns these worlds have trod
Into limits of sky yet be conceived,
To settle all may to an unfound God
With vision of heaven still be achieved...
...Not more I know of what time arranges -
...I'll always love you through all such changes...
