All the world’s a race of seasons,
Every season passes its baton.
With every hand off there is a change,
their handoffs, forming his four seasons.
First comes his beginning stage,
full of life and making impressions like waves shaping the shoreline.
How will the rest of his year look?
His bright, twinkling eyes illuminate with wonder and amazement.
The baton has passed to his pinnacle stage;
strong, powerful, and ready to conquer like a fiery fist not wanting to release its hold on the world.
In his prime, showering everyone with extremes of himself;
relentless in his pursuit of proving himself
while bringing tireless, incessant intensity, while diminishing the flame.
Then comes the valley stage, with a plummeting pace.
His flame has abated, but not out completely.
Falling, not able to regain the life and impressions he left in his first season.
He is breathing on the world with his confident, quiet voice;
like a steady breeze caressing a cheek.
Experienced, refined, rubbing natures colors different ways as the moon changes the tides and paints the moonlit sky with peace and serenity.
Autumn leaves, hush now.
Await the approaching end.
The last pass of the baton brings him to the finish line.
The year and his seasons have come to an end.
The flame has been put out, but his presence will be felt.
Is there a winner or has he lost himself in the race of life?
Almost time for the race to start again,
New life about to be infused into the world.
A new year is about to begin.
Todays poetry contest submission was written by Alex Arca.
Do you think it could possibly be one of the best new poems of 2013?