Fifth Season Magnificent

Four grand seasons dwell in a Temple of Wind
As the Breath changes lustrous dust into men
The rush of living waters echo and quicken
Parched is the night for day to come again
 
Strands of silver eons prosper into sound
On the timbrel, the harp, the cymbal, the lyre
Graces fill the skies and gently float around
And my love, our days have just begun here
 
Peace becomes the troubled soul, soft its shallow flow
Beulah, my garden grove, where vines of faith will grow
Settled, the silt at the bottom of the lake, I can see
The name above all names laid out in quiet stones below
 
Hashem, all rhyme and meter created to say
For a watercolor sky of wonders and sovereignty
A fifth season magnificent raptures this day
It all tastes simple, warm, full, and free
 
Azuvah, for the sake of the forsaken
Shemameh, not so late for the desolate
A calm all along has waited to awaken
These handsome days together we create
 
Peace becomes the troubled soul, slowing to a smile
Hephzi-bah, hidden valley, my treasured gilded mile
Still, the waters in the midst of the lake, I can see
The light of the Lord scatters shimmered all the while